This Incarnation
by frostykitten
Summary: "It must be terrifying to hate someone so much but still want to keep them safe," I said through chattering teeth as he left. I wasn't freezing anymore, but I was still cold. My words actually stopped him in his tracks.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**A/N:My new story! Hooray!  
**

**Lisette and Bryn are two names that popped into my head just before the idea for this story... I have no idea why, I've never actually heard those names before and had to Google them to make sure they actually _were_ names.**

**Thanks to DragonMaster65 for betaing!  
**

**I've always wanted to use the saying 'gone to hell in a hand basket,' and I've incorporated it into this chapter! I just thought I'd share that...**

**~Frosty**

**Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters, setting, etc, etc, aren't mine. They will continue to not be mine for the entirety of this story. **

The first time I saw Draco Malfoy I thought 'great, there's no escaping spoiled little rich kids, even in a magical school'. I didn't let it bother me though; I was too excited about this new, magical world to be bothered that there were bad people at Hogwarts just like at the Muggle school I'd attended. Besides, they were magical, but they were still people, and people came in good, bad, and everything in between; it was to be expected. I'd dealt with people like him before, what harm could he possibly do?

It wasn't until later that he was the first one to call me that horrible word. Mudblood. The concept is ridiculous; as if someone could be inherently inferior because their parents weren't magical. If anything, I have an advantage over Purebloods because I'm perfectly capable of getting along in either the magical or the much larger Muggle world without much difficulty.

"He's just jealous," I mumbled out loud, too caught up in my thoughts to notice.

"What was that, Hermione?" Harry asked, walking beside me as we headed to transfiguration class.

"Nothing, Harry." I blushed; it was slightly embarrassing to get so caught up in my thoughts sometimes that I spoke them out loud.

"There's Malfoy," Harry whispered, pointing out a bright blonde head slipping around the corner in front of us. "He's up to something."

Ron and I shot each other a look and rolled our eyes. Harry was getting out of hand, expecting trouble and conspiracies where there weren't any ever since we'd come back for our sixth year. The entire Wizarding World was going to hell in a hand-basket because of Voldemort and his followers and Harry was concerned about _Malfoy_.

Harry darted off to follow Malfoy, leaving Ron and I standing in the hallway looking after him. "I can't be late for transfiguration again; it's your turn to go after him."

I rolled my eyes once again, but nodded; Ron wasn't at all concerned with his attendance, he was just tired of chasing down Harry as he did things that would get him in trouble. We'd all had our share of detentions because of Harry's inability to let other people handle problems. "Fine, I'll get him this time," I waved dismissively at Ron and headed off in the direction Malfoy and then Harry had gone off in.

I found Harry peeking around a corner as Malfoy paced in front of the blank stretch of wall where the door to the room of requirement would appear. "Harry!" I hissed, tugging on my friend's arm.

"He's going to hear you!" Harry snapped, only sparing me a quick glance over his shoulder before turning back to stare at the blonde.

"Harry, why do you keep insisting that Malfoy's up to something bad?" I was beginning to think that Harry was slipping a little; all that time spent fighting against evil and he started to see evil where there wasn't any. When the war finally ends, I worry what Harry's going to do without a threat looming over his head. He'd probably start worrying that the dust-mites under his bed were plotting his downfall.

"Hermione, he's evil. I think he's a Death Eater."

Once again I rolled my eyes at my friend; I was really going to have to stop doing that. If my mother were here, she'd tell me to stop before my face gets stuck that way, but that usually just made me roll my eyes again.

"He's not evil Harry." I knew this for a fact; I had since third year when I slapped him.

_The stress of everything was getting to me; we were just kids, why did we have to deal with so much? Had I stayed in the Muggle world, homework and bullies would have been the worst of my worries, not a dark overlord and an escaped murdering convict._

_I finally snapped when the blonde arse just had to give his input. Stepping forward, I slapped him across the face as hard as I could. _

_The effect would have been more satisfying if I hadn't had a strange flashback the moment our skin made contact. A rush of images and sounds assaulted me, depicting the life of a woman I'd never even seen before, yet seemed oddly familiar in a way I couldn't quite put my finger on._

_I snapped out of my trance when this woman and her lover died a brutal death at the hands of a mob. It seemed they'd been tried for witchcraft and killed for it. Their wands had been taken from them and they'd been burned. _

"_Lisette," Malfoy whispered in an awe-filled voice. _

_My eyes snapped to his in horror; he'd seen those visions too? I saw the truth was actually something much, much worse when I looked into his eyes. The colour and shape were different, but everything behind them was someone I had once known so well____. __Bryn._

"_No." I told him forcefully. "That never happened." No one could ever find out that there was something connecting us. So we'd been lovers in a past life, that didn't mean we had to have anything to do with each other in this one. It was some fluke that we'd found each other again, it had to be._

_I turned around and didn't look back as I heard him run away._

We hadn't spoken anything more than passing insults since that little discovery in their year. I did, however, know that if he was in possession of the same soul that Bryn had had, then he wasn't evil. And he was, so he wasn't. Inside Malfoy, there was good, a lot of good. It was just stifled by all the foulness that had been dumped on him in this lifetime.

"And how would you know that Granger?" Someone snarled, making the both of us jump.

I turned my head so fast I probably caused whiplash; there was Malfoy, standing just around the corner from Harry, he must have heard us talking and walked over in that annoying, soundless way of his.

He seemed almost like he was challenging me to admit that there was something between us that would let me know that he wasn't evil. I'd made it clear to him three years ago that what we'd seen had been a hallucination – neither of us believed this, but that's what I chose to pretend.

"Anyone can be bad, but it takes a certain type of person to be evil. You're not that type of person, there's good in you." I told him with conviction.

Harry was looking between the Malfoy and me with confusion, I had to be careful or his overactive imagination might pick up on the real past between me and Malfoy. I wouldn't think he'd actually be able to hit the nail on the head, but he could probably detect there was _something _there if he was suspicious enough.

"You don't know _anything_ Granger." Malfoy hissed.

Instead of being afraid of him, I tilted my head, contemplating. Was he trying to warn me that he actually _was_ up to something? My eyes flicked down to his left forearm and back to his face, could he actually be a Death Eater?

"And _you_ Potter, stay out of my business." The hiss turned into a threatening growl as he turned his attention to Harry. I wrinkled my nose at him behind Harry's back, I wasn't afraid of him, and neither was Harry.

Malfoy turned and left before Harry could grab his wand. He walked right past the room of requirement and continued on down the hallway, obviously abandoning whatever it was he'd been doing now that he'd been caught.

"He's up to something," Harry said again with narrowed eyes as he watched Malfoy's retreating back. I rolled my eyes –yet again – but didn't comment; I just grabbed my friend's arm to drag him to class.

* * *

As a prefect, it's my duty to patrol the halls with a partner assigned by the head students. These pairs consist of a male and female from different houses that are shuffled from week to week, and I've been exceedingly lucky to not have been paired with Malfoy yet in the year.

After our little incident in the hallway earlier in the day, it figured that for the first time I was paired with Malfoy.

When the head girl handed me the schedule with my partner for the week, she gave me a sympathetic look. I shrugged, telling her I knew it was going to have to happen eventually. So I was paired with Malfoy for the week; I could survive that.

I could feel Ron's worried stare burning into my back as I left right from the prefect's meeting to patrol – we had the first patrol of the night.

"You realize we're supposed to patrol _together_, don't you Mudblood?" An annoying voice behind me called.

"Don't call her that!" Ron yelled. I didn't bother turning around, but I did hear a scuffle from the room we had gathered in as Ron tackled Malfoy.

The other prefects could break the two of them apart; I was going to start my patrol without Malfoy – the longer he fought, the less time I had to spend with him. The fight probably wasn't going to do much for the blonde prat's mood though.

I was up a floor when Malfoy finally caught up to me. "I say we need to patrol together and you leave," he growled, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth.

It looked like Ron had managed a few good shots while they'd been rolling around on the ground. For someone so invested in Pureblood supremacy, Malfoy was awfully fond of using Muggle means of problem solving.

"You call me a Mudblood and wonder why I leave?" I snapped back at him. Did the git really expect everyone to worship him to the point of flocking after him even when he insults them? I guess if you looked at the Slytherins, this seemed to be true, but the Slytherin world and the real world are completely different things... At least I hoped they were, I'd seen evidence to the contrary on numerous occasions.

"Let's just get this over with."

I looked at him sharply, hearing the defeat in his voice. Had he always looked so tired? He had purple smudges under his eyes and his pale skin was looking almost sallow. The war was weighing heavily on everyone, but Malfoy seemed to be having a harder time of it than most students.

I didn't know for sure, but if I were to guess, my bet would be that Malfoy had been dragged onto his parent's side without being given much of a choice. He had always been an opinionated child, but they had never been _his_ opinions. I'd always thought if he were to just think with his own brain instead of acting like a very large parrot for his father, he might actually be a decent person under all the social pressure. Not that this was something I'd ever talk to him about, because there was absolutely nothing connecting us. Nothing.

A sound echoing down the hall distracted me from the sidelong looks I kept stealing of Malfoy as we walked together. After glancing at each other, we both pulled out our wands and crept forward, not sure what kind of threat we were going to face; Hogwarts seemed to be getting more and more dangerous of late.

It was Peeves. He was attaching what looked like water balloons to the ceiling, but they didn't seem to be filled with water.

I let out an unconscious sigh of relief when I saw that it was only Peeves. Malfoy must have heard it because he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye before stepping out of the shadows we were hiding in and started demanding to know what was going on, along with a slew of other official things we'd been instructed to say should we come across a troublemaker. I was content to let Malfoy handle the poltergeist; I wasn't in the mood for yelling and he seemed like he could use the chance to blow off some steam.

While they were shouting at each other, I pulled out my wand and carefully levitated the many balloons down from the ceiling. My earlier suspicions were confirmed when I accidently bumped a balloon on the wall above my head and I was covered in chocolate pudding. Yep, definitely not water.

I'm not proud of it, but I squealed in horror when the disgustingly squishy and slimy substance covered me. Malfoy and Peeves paused in their shouting match to stare at me.

"What?" I snapped irritably. It wasn't like they hadn't seen a person with pudding in their hair before: Peeves frequently pulled pranks like the one I'd been disassembling. My voice served to break them out of their disbelief and trigger their laughter. Peeves sped away, cackling hysterically and knocking over suits of armour in his path, leaving me alone with the blonde git.

"Now your hair matches your blood." Malfoy told me, before starting to laugh as well.

If Harry had been there, I would have immediately taken back my earlier defence of the prat. At that moment, I was pretty sure that he was evil after all.

I was on the verge of tears of humiliation; I could feel them starting to burn the corners of my eyes, threatening to overflow. Clenching my fists, I forcefully stopped them from pouring over and glared. I wasn't sure how, but this was Malfoy's fault – okay, maybe not his fault, but he definitely wasn't helping the situation.

An evil idea occurred to me when I noticed the balloons waiting for disposal sitting at my feet. A quick glance at Malfoy assured me that he was still too busy laughing at me to notice me as I bent down and grabbed one of them. It was a red one – how fitting, a Gryffindor colour.

I've never been very good at throwing things, but my aim has always been flawless and the throw was fuelled by anger. I lobbed the balloon at him and it burst right on his head. Needless to say, his laughter stopped.

"Now your hair matches you personality," I said, mocking his earlier statement. I was too angry to laugh at him, but I memorized his disbelieving and horrified face to describe to Harry and Ron later in excruciating detail.

I watched as he visibly fought the instinct to hex me half to death for daring to mar him with something as common as chocolate pudding – at least that's what I imagine was going through his inbred little brain. His desire to remain a prefect seemed to win out over the need to get revenge.

"You better watch your back," he growled at me as he Scourgified himself. I followed his example and magically cleaned the pudding out of my hair. A frown appeared on my face; magic wasn't as thorough as I would've liked it to be. I had a feeling I was going to be finding pudding globs in my hair for the rest of our patrol, possibly even for the next few days.

I cast an envious glance at Malfoy's hair, he didn't have nearly as much as I did and all of the pudding came right out. It helped that his hair was blonde and not the same colour as the pudding, like mine was. And that his hair looked smooth and soft as opposed to the wild mess of curls that mine settled in no matter what I did to it. I can admit it; he's an arsehole, but he has nice hair. It was probably soft too – okay, too much!

I shook my head to clear it of the blasphemous thoughts and followed Malfoy down the hall to finish our patrol. Things were going so _well_ already, and only six days of these wonderful experiences left!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**A/N:**** Thanks to ****TimeToWriteIsHistory**** and ****amonlyreading**** for reviewing! I was a little sad that I only got two reviews for the first chapter, but I guess I've been kind of spoilt with my other stories.**

**Also thanks to DragonMaster65 for her wonderful job betaing!**

**~Frosty**

"Hermione, you have something in your hair," Ron told me the next morning. I'd gotten back to the common room after everyone else had gone to bed, so I hadn't been able to tell my friends about the incident during patrol.

I tried to pull the bit of hair he was indicating to where I could see it, but was unsuccessful.

"Here," Ron said, reaching for the bit of pudding. I watched as his face wrinkled in disgust and confusion. "'Mione, what is this?" He asked me, looking disturbed as he stared at the pudding on his fingers.

"Proof that I need to wash my hair more than twice to get all the chocolate pudding out of it," I grumbled. I didn't have time to have another shower before class: it would make me late. Frustrated, I cast yet another Scourgify on my hair, knowing it was hopeless. I was going to have to wash it yet _again_ today. It would have to wait until the end of the day, after classes.

"Pudding?" Ron asked, perking up. Was he really going to focus on the pudding instead of bothering to find out how it got into my hair? "Do you think they'll have pudding at breakfast?"

Yes, yes he was. Ron only ever thought with his stomach; it was annoying to try and have a conversation with him sometimes.

"Why would they have pudding at breakfast?" Harry asked as he caught up with us on our way to the Great Hall.

"I found pudding in Hermione hair and I was just thinking I'd like to eat pudding this morning – wait! Hermione, how'd you get pudding in your hair?" There; that only took much longer than it should have. I fought the urge to roll my eyes at my redheaded friend – I really did do that too often.

"Peeves attached balloons filled with pudding to the ceiling and I accidently popped one of them while I was taking them down."

Harry looked sympathetic, but Ron just looked like he wanted to find out where those balloons ended up. I shuddered. Would he just suck the pudding out of the balloons like a snack tube? That was disgusting!

"Where was Malfoy when this happened?" Harry asked. Did he think Malfoy had run off to do unnamed evils while I faced the poltergeist myself?

"Yelling at Peeves, then laughing," I grumbled. They looked like they wanted to hunt Malfoy down for daring to laugh at me. Hypocrites. Protective as they seemed, I knew they would've laughed if they'd been there – maybe not cruelly, but there would have been laughter. "I got him though: I popped one on his head." An evil grin spread across my face as they looked at me with surprised approval and demanded to hear all the details.

Harry's eyes darkened with worry when I told them Malfoy's warning. "Hermione, you really do need to watch your back. He's up to something, and you're spending every night this week alone with him."

I initially dismissed Harry's warning, but later, as I was sitting in class, something occurred to me: what if there was a way to _check?_ Malfoy seemed to be going to the room of requirement when Harry last followed him, so what if I went to the room and asked for what Malfoy had required?

It was worth a try. The worst thing that could happen would be if the door didn't appear. I resolved to attempt it after my patrol. I would have to make sure that Malfoy thought I was headed back to the Gryffindor tower; I didn't want him following me.

* * *

Late. I was late for my patrol. I had no doubt in my mind that Malfoy was going to whine about my lateness for the entirety of our patrol. My blasted shower had put me farther behind than I had anticipated, but it wasn't my _fault_! It was my _hair_! There's just so much of it that it took forever to wash all of the shampoo and then conditioner out of it.

In an effort to lessen the amount of time Malfoy would have to wait for me, I didn't bother drying my mass of curls. By the time I was out the portrait hole, I was irritated _and_ the water dripping onto my shoulders and soaking into my robes was making me _cold_. I shivered slightly as I practically ran to the classroom where I was supposed to meet Malfoy.

As I approached, he was giving me the strangest look. It was like he'd looked at me before, but never really seen me, but now I was painted neon colours so he couldn't help but see me. It was a type of horrified awe.

"What is it?" I snapped irritably. His expression of awe turned into something more closely resembling a deer-in-the-headlights look.

"Nothing." He glanced away from me. What was going on with him? One night he's threatening me and the next night he's gawking.

"What?" I demanded again, putting my hands on my hips. I know it's a snotty move, but my mum had always done it and I'd picked up the habit at a young age.

"It's just... your hair's different."

"It's wet," I grumbled, shivering again. Now that I was here, and only a few minutes late, I had time to cast a quick drying spell.

"You looked like her... you for a second." He whispered reluctantly. It seemed like he was gauging my reaction to his revelation. It was almost like he wasn't completely sure that he wasn't insane and was testing to see if I was just as insane as he was. As far as I'd ever been able to tell, my reflection looked nothing like the one I'd once had. Lisette and I had some vague similarities in our bone structure, but nothing big in common. Maybe Malfoy recognized something in my expression combined with the bushy-ness of my hair weighed down by the water in it? Or maybe Malfoy just had a few screws loose.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I practically growled at him. Why _now_? Why did he have to bring this up now, when we were on the verge of a war? We'd managed to avoid the topic since third year and now, when we had less than two school years left, he was bringing it up?

Malfoy raised his eyebrows at me and gave me that smirk he seemed so fond of. "You do."

The vehemence he spoke with was in contrast with his relaxed smirk. Was it possible that the smirk was a facade and he wasn't as much of an asshole as I thought he was? It really seemed to bother him to think that he was the only one who acknowledged those past lives of ours. Above the smirk, his eyes were staring at me intensely, waiting for my answer. I got the impression that he wasn't going to let this drop without a fight.

"Even if I did know what you're talking about, I wouldn't speak about it. The past means nothing; it's in the past and shouldn't hold any precedence over the future."

No matter what we were before we were born into this life, we were enemies now! Enemies forced together in a patrol for the week. A patrol we should have started a while ago. "Come on Malfoy, we have to patrol."

I walked right past him and started down the hallway; if I wanted to be in bed before two, we had to start now.

"Lisette!" He yelled after me. What was he _thinking_; what if someone had _heard_? He'd obviously taken leave of his senses.

Pausing, I whipped around to face him, furious that he would _dare_ say that name out loud. "Not Lisette! Hermione!" I snapped. The boy needed a reality check, we were on different sides. Our hatred was mutual. Under no circumstances should we have anything to do with each other beyond the occasional verbal sparring match or curse.

His smirk got wider at my reaction. Realization hit me as I looked at him; he'd been saying something to gauge my reaction _again_. I'd only sort of confirmed that I knew what he was talking about before, but now he could be sure. Bastard.

"Why are you so set on speaking about this?" I asked, trying to hide my irritation with him – it would only make the smirk get bigger and more smug.

"Information is power." He announced, telling me _nothing_. "Stop lazing around Granger, I want to get to bed this century."

I sputtered, about to object that _I_ was the one who had suggested we start patrolling, even the first one to start walking, but he wasn't finished. He looked me up and down with a look of mild distaste on his face. "You should as well, though I doubt all the beauty sleep in the world could do anything for you, but it couldn't hurt."

Did _anything_ helpful ever come from his mouth? I thought back, trying to find a time when he'd said something helpful. Nope, nothing.

The smug smirk didn't disappear, but we managed to get through the patrol without incident. When we finished the last floor, Malfoy turned and left without saying a word to me. I frowned at his retreating back; no snide comment? Something must be on his mind...

I shrugged off my thoughts, it was actually helpful to me if he was too distracted to notice that I wasn't going back to the Gryffindor common room – not that he'd care, but if he caught me going to the room of requirement, he might get suspicious.

I dove behind a suit of armour when I heard approaching footsteps. Why was it that I could patrol the entire castle and not run into anyone to break up the time with Malfoy, but as soon as I tried to sneak somewhere, there's someone coming? Peeking around the armour, I watched as Snape prowled past in the direction Malfoy had disappeared.

Finding out what was going on in the room of requirement was more important than snooping to find out what Malfoy and Snape were doing as they slunk around the castle after hours. Following Snape was tempting, but it also held a higher risk for getting caught when they could be innocently returning to their rooms for the night.

Sure that Snape was long gone, I crept out from behind the armour and made my way to the room of requirement. I was lucky that no one else seemed to be out at this time, so it wasn't necessary to hide behind anything for the rest of the trip.

I crossed my arms as I stared at the blank space where the door would appear. All I needed to do was figure out how to word what I was going to ask for.

_I need to see the space Malfoy uses?_ No, that might show my _any_ space he uses.

_I need to go to the same place as Malfoy?_ No, that would probably actually take me to Malfoy...

_I need to go to the place Malfoy requires? _That was going to have to work. I crossed my fingers, closed my eyes, and started pacing in front of the wall.

Junk! An entire room of useless junk. I poked around in the room, but couldn't find anything of any real interest. Either I didn't ask for the right thing and this wasn't the room Malfoy used, or there was something in here that he was working with. Searching in all of this for the one thing Malfoy was working with would be impossible.

Giving up, I shot a last glance around the room before reaching for the door. Before I could turn the knob, it twisted under my hand and the door started to open. My eyes widened in horror when I realized that someone was coming in!

My heart was pounding when I dove into a pile of medieval dress robes and pulled some of the frilly mess over my head just as the door opened. No one was there. I shifted slightly, ready to move, when there was a muttering and suddenly Malfoy appeared. He'd mastered disillusionment charms? That was some pretty advanced magic, I was almost impressed. Almost.

My fidgeting caused the mannequin behind me to shift, dropping the crown it had been wearing right on my head. Malfoy's wand was pointed in my direction before the crown had even finished its descent.

"Who's there?" He demanded, shoulders tense and sounding more anxious than threatening. Well, at least I knew that this _was_ the room he'd been visiting. I thought maybe if I didn't move, then he would assume something had just fallen.

"If you don't come out, I'm going to start hexing," he threatened. Well, he was more paranoid than I'd thought, which was probably a good thing for his survival, but looking bad for mine at the moment.

The pile shifted further as I grabbed my wand and stood up. Grey eyes narrowed when they caught sight of me, but he lowered his wand. Since when had Malfoy lowered his wand when he saw me? Shouldn't he be cursing me and leaving me to suffer amongst all this forgotten stuff?

"What are you doing here?" He demanded.

Okay, valid question, too bad I didn't have an answer that wouldn't end in me getting hexed. Well, when in doubt, it sometimes worked to just parrot the question back at them...

"What are _you_ doing here?" I asked back. It was worth a try, maybe he'd just _tell_ me and save me all kinds of trouble.

"That's none of your business," he snapped. Well, at least I distracted him from making me tell him why I was there. "Now tell me why you're here."

Shit. Okay, maybe he wouldn't be so easily distracted. "What makes you think that you can avoid my question and still demand an answer for yours?"

He raised his wand again, pointing it towards my chest unwaveringly. "I'm the one with the wand pointed at you."

Not one to be intimidated, I pointed my wand at him, holding it just as steady as his. "I don't have to answer your question, we both have wands."

He scoffed at me. He actually _scoffed_! Like I was a little kitten hissing at him, thinking itself a threat while only managing to look cute. Except there was no way he'd ever think I would be cute, so I was an ugly kitten! "Granger, we both know you're not going to hex m-"

"Expelliarmus!" I shouting, watching with satisfaction as he was knocked right off his unsuspecting feel and his wand flew right into my waiting hand.

"You were saying?" I asked smugly, waving his own wand at him teasingly. I quickly stunned him before he could tackle me and probably strangle me.

I used the fancy robes I'd been hiding in to tie his feet together, as I did this, that strange crown fell out. The tiara thing that was to blame for Malfoy finding out I was in the room before he could do whatever it was he usually did in the place. I glared at the foul head adornment; it deserved a _special_ place in this room of junk. I know it's mental to blame an inanimate object, but I got an evil satisfaction out of dropping it in a bucket of thick blue sludge I found.

I could feel Malfoy's stare burning holes in my back, patrolling was going to be an interesting event if his murderous mood carried on into tomorrow – which it was almost certain to do.

His glare intensified when he watched me drop his wand on the opposite side of the room. I walked over to the doorway before I freed him from the stunning spell. Before he could even start swearing at me, I was out the door and heading to the Gryffindor tower; he needed to untie his legs and get his wand before he could come after me, and I would be long gone by then.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**A/N: Hello readers! This story was a little slow starting, but it's really be picking up now.**

**Thanks to DragonMaster65 for betaing and the kind words! Also thanks to everyone who reviewed the earlier chapters!**

**~Frosty**

In Lisette's memories of Bryn, he was the kindest, gentlest person she knew. She'd once watched the man risk drowning because a duckling had wandered too far from its mother and got caught in a nasty current before it had learned to swim properly. How could the same soul reside in someone like Malfoy?

Not that I had much in common with Lisette. She'd been shallow and spoiled, treated like a princess from the day she was born. The woman had never raised a finger to do actual work and was completely hopeless with magic. I supposed both Malfoy and I weren't much like our previous selves. It brings to mind the whole nature versus nurture debate; if I, Hermione Granger, had been raised like Lisette, would I have ended up like her as well? And Malfoy: did he have the capacity to be caring somewhere inside that prickly exterior of his?

I glanced at him across the potions room, contemplating. As I watched, he sneakily pulled out his wand under the table and made Ron's potion explode all over the redhead's face and hair. It was probably safest to assume he was prickly all the way through.

"Detention Mr. Weasley," Snape called from the front of the room without looking up from whatever he was writing – I knew he wanted us to think he was grading papers, but I was pretty sure he just doodled while he sat up there.

Ron turned bright red with anger, but he didn't protest – it was best to just accept Snape's punishments lest he double them. I shook my head at the blatant favouritism of the greasy man, but there was nothing I could do for my friend.

"I didn't do anything wrong with my potion, it shouldn't have exploded like that," Ron grumbled as the tree of us made out way to the Great Hall for lunch. Apparently he hadn't seen Malfoy's stealthy wand-work. I wasn't about to enlighten him; it would only lead to a fight between the two.

A potion brewed by Ron going horribly wrong wasn't something new, but that wrong potion exploding was a phenomenon only Seamus seemed to manage on anything close to a regular basis, so there was some room for suspicion. "Could someone have tampered with your ingredients?" Harry asked.

I tuned them out as they argued the plausibility of someone having tampered with the potion. Eventually they'd either accept that Ron had done something wrong or move onto blaming the Slytherins – my bet was on blaming the Slytherins.

"Hermione, do you have patrol tonight?" Harry asked, drawing my wandering attention back to my friends.

I sighed before answering; they were like bottomless pits, taking the information I told them and burying it under Quidditch statistics, hatred of Slytherins, and conspiracy theories. "Yes Harry. I've told you, I have patrol every night this week. Why?"

I knew something was up when I saw their evasive looks. It seemed that they were counting on my patrol keeping me busy while they got into something I would no doubt frown on.

In anticipation of having to scold them later for taking stupid risks, my face settled into a disapproving look of its own volition. "What are you two up to?"

Their guilty looks continued for the rest of lunch and throughout the classes we shared together, but I didn't manage to get their plans out of them before my patrol. I would just have to catch them at whatever they were getting into before they got themselves killed.

On my way to meet Malfoy, I spotted two figures slinking in shadows, skirting the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Bristling indignantly that they were going to go gallivanting in the forest without me – again – I turned around and raced through the halls. If I really rushed, I could probably catch them before they got too deep.

Had I been thinking with something besides my anger and hurt at being left out, I would have realized that going into the forest alone was even more dangerous than going in together like my friends were doing. I also would have remembered that Malfoy was sure to be furious that I didn't show up for patrol and report me – probably to Snape, who hated me and would be sure to mete out a heavy punishment.

My headlong rush through the halls slowed as I approached the entrance hall, I was going to have to be sneaky if I was going to get outside undetected; Filch was always on the lookout for students to punish.

I shivered as I pushed the door open a crack and a frigid breeze blew over me; I should have worn my heavy cloak, but I hadn't been counting on going for a walk across the grounds when I dressed that morning. Too stubborn to allow the temperature to give me pause, I set out across the grounds.

The Forbidden Forest was just as daunting as it'd been when I was in first year. I was bigger and more adept at magic now, but that didn't mean it wasn't perfectly reasonable to still be a little scared of the place. It was Forbidden for a reason!

The trees seemed to loom over me threateningly as I finally got underneath their sinister canopy. If I wasn't going to let the cold get to me, then I wasn't going to let a bunch of trees stop me from finding the boys either. Determined, I continued on into the forest. They were going to be in _so_ much trouble when I found them.

For equal parts comfort and safety, I pulled my wand out. Something about the flimsy little stick made me much more dangerous than I'd have ever managed without it.

In a normal forest, there would have been shuffling sounds of animals and the like even so long after sunset. The fact that I couldn't detect even the rustle of a mouse under the carpet of leaves was more unnerving than the approach of something large and hungry would have been.

A twig snapped somewhere off in the distance. I froze and strained my ears to catch any sound. My breathing quickened and I backed up until I hit a tree trunk as a second and third twig snapped. There was something coming – something large.

A trembling length of wood was my only defence against the approaching thing – whatever it was. I knew that if it was an animal, I shouldn't run; that would mark me as prey, but standing my ground didn't exactly seem like a safe option either.

My knees nearly gave out when I saw that it wasn't something big, it was a lot of something mediums - wolves to be exact. Why did it have to be wolves?

I'd never once said anything to my friends, but I was more afraid of dogs than Ron was of spiders. I'd been attacked by a friend's pet when I was young and had been terrified of the four-legged monsters ever since.

They slowly advanced on me, and I was sure their eyes were glowing red with an unholy evil from within. All of them were the same black that seemed to actually absorb the little light that was available. These were no normal wolves.

In the face of my greatest fear, I found that all of the Gryffindor courage everyone was always on about seemed to have disappeared. I wasn't even thinking anymore when I turned tail and ran, instincts taking over as I fled.

I could hear their paws pounding the ground behind me, getting closer and closer as they gained on me.

Had I not been blind with panic, I may have noticed the figure step into my path and been prepared for the blazing red light as it passed just over my shoulder and caused a yelp behind me. I didn't turn to check the damage the spell had caused, but it seemed to slow my pursuers. The second and third shot stopped them completely, but I kept running.

As I got closer, I was able to identify the familiar silvery hair of my patrol partner, looking less than pleased with me.

"You absolute _moron_! Do you have a death wish? Why didn't you use your _wand?_" I could see a vein sticking out in his neck and there was a red tinge to his cheeks, I'd never seen Malfoy so furious. I'd also never seen a more welcome sight.

I disregarded his furious yelling and kept running at him, ignoring his confused and slightly alarmed look. I only stopped my headlong rush when I'd collided with his chest. He froze in shock at me actions and I used the opportunity to wrap my arms around him, desperately seeking comfort.

"You can yell at me later, just... not now. Please?" I knew I sounded pathetic, but I just needed him to hold me, at least until the trembling stopped. Maybe it was the little bit of Lisette that remained in my soul was drawn to the little bit of Bryn in him, or maybe I just needed someone solid and Malfoy was the only option other than trees.

I nearly burst into tears of relief when his arm wrapped around me in comforting warmth. I stayed like that for a moment, regaining my nerves.

Taking a huge, shuddering breath, I stepped back from him, putting the space that had always separated us back where it should be: gaping obviously between us.

Once the immediate danger and resulting panic were out of the way, there was only awkwardness to fill the space between us.

"What the hell were you _thinking_ running off into the forest alone you stupid Mudblood?" Malfoy demanded angrily. For once I was grateful for the fact that he was an insufferable prat: anger was an excellent reliever of the tension.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were worried about me Malfoy," I teased, ignoring the Mudblood comment.

"It's a good thing you know better than. I would _never_ waste energy worrying about a worthless Mudblood," he snapped. Turning away from me, he started making his way out of the forest.

I glanced behind me to make sure the wolves were gone. They were, save for the two dead ones left behind. I shuddered and hurried to catch up with the blond, not wanting to be left alone with the bodies.

"You wasted an awful lot of energy finding me for someone who wouldn't even expend the energy to worry about me." The adrenalin was fading and I was starting to feel shaky and spent – not to mention freezing. I was arguing with him on autopilot.

I barely remembered what I'd said when he turned and gave me a very nasty look. The intensity of his glare actually made me step back a step. I mentally scrabbled, trying to remember what I'd just said to make him look at me with such hatred.

"I didn't do it for _you_. I saw you going into the forest from a window and knew you were going to get yourself killed. I –" He stopped suddenly and faced the bits of the castle we could see between the trees again.

I puzzled over his actions; he obviously still hated me with the same passion he'd always felt, so why did he save me instead of laughing while those horrible wolves tore me to pieces?

My eyes widened in realization and then fixed on the shoulders of the perplexing git in front of me. He could care less about me, but part of him had once cared very much about Lisette.

For someone as starved for affection as I imagined Malfoy to be, it made sense that his happy -until the burned-at-the-stake thing- past life held more sway over him than I'd let mine hold over me.

A mournful howl from the forest made me jump and speed up, keeping pace with Malfoy and his longer legs. "What were those things?" I asked, shuddering. I wasn't really expecting an answer, but it seemed like Malfoy had one.

"Dark Lord's newest toy; Shadow Wolves. They're made to hunt down his enemies." His gaze didn't leave the castle, leaving me unsure if he was actually aware that he was being helpful or he was just lost in his memories.

We finally made it clear of the trees and the ball of terror and anxiety in my chest that had gone unnoticed until then loosened a little bit. I glanced back towards the forest, it was starting to hit me that I'd just looked death in the foaming muzzles and survived.

As the castle door creaked shut behind me, my waning energy finally ran out. I stumbled into the wall beside the door and then slid down it, exhausted and freezing. I watched vacantly as Malfoy made his way over to the stairs, stopping half-way when he realized that I wasn't behind him.

He made a disgusted noise when he saw me sitting on the floor. "Don't you _dare_ go into shock," he growled at me. He was so intimidating that I would have obeyed him if I had any conscious control over it.

Instead, I could only watch as he got nearer and hope he wasn't going to try slapping me. I flinched a little and closed my eyes when he stopped in front of me and brought out his wand. As a warming heat spread through me and my shivering slowed down slightly, I realized he'd only been casting a warming charm.

I opened my eyes to see him watching me closely, probably making sure I wasn't in danger of passing out or hypothermia or something. He gave a small nod, seemingly satisfied that I was out of danger and turned to walk away.

"It must be terrifying to hate someone so much but want to keep them safe," I said through chattering teeth as he left – I wasn't freezing anymore, but I was still cold. My words actually stopped him in his tracks.

"I'll finish the patrol tonight, but I'm leaving half-way through tomorrow. Don't be late," was all he said before he left me there.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to xXKotoriFeathersXx (sorry I took so long to answer you. Honestly, I was considering scrapping this story). **

**This chapter is unbetaed... I'm kind of just posting it as is. I edited it, but it was so long ago I don't even remember what happens in it. I have 7 chapters written of this story, so I'll post them before I make a final decision what to do with this.**

**~Frosty**

I leant my head back against the wall, giving the warming spell on me time to work its magic banishing the cold that had settled into my bones. It was stupid to be sitting in the entrance hall, just waiting to be found, but the exhaustion I was feeling made it seem like a good idea to just rest a few minutes.

I didn't notice my eyes had closed until I heard hushed voices coming from the hallway that led to the kitchens. Once I was paying attention, I the approaching footsteps became obvious. Someone was coming and I couldn't seem to gather the energy to move.

"Hermione?" One of the voices asked, probably after they entered the entrance hall.

I blinked a few times in an attempt to make my tired eyes to focus on the two figures standing in front of me, looming over my sitting form.

"Hermione, what happened?" Harry demanded anxiously as he kneeled down beside me.

"Forbidden Forest. Wolves," I told them, shuddering at the memory. I needed to save my energy for the trip back to my room.

"What the _hell_ were you doing in the Forbidden Forest?" Ron yelled, no doubt drawing unwanted attention with yet another inappropriate outburst.

Now I was confused. Hadn't they been in the Forbidden Forest just a little while ago? My tired mind was having trouble processing the information, but eventually it managed to come to a conclusion. "You two weren't outside tonight?"

"No," Harry told me, pulling me to my feet. When I wobbled, he pulled my arm over his shoulder and Ron did the same on the opposite side. Between the two of them, they easily dragged me back to the Gryffindor common room, happily unnoticed.

I wasn't paying attention on the trip though, I was frantically trying to figure out who else could possibly have been going into the forest after dark.

"Hermione, are you saying you went into the forest alone?" Harry sternly demanded once they'd settled me into an armchair pulled as close to the fire as safety would allow in an attempt to warm me.

I nodded, still trying to figure out who I'd followed. "I saw two people go into the forest and thought that's what you boys were keeping from me today, so I followed them."

My statement resulted in the usual chorus of admonishments from my two friends, I nodded in all the right places and tried to look sufficiently contrite until the storm had passed and they were willing to listen to what I had to say.

"What was it you said about wolves?" Ron asked when they were done yelling at me.

I shuddered, remembering. If Malfoy hadn't been there... Another shudder washed over me; if Malfoy hadn't been there I would've been wolf food.

"There was a pack of wolves in the forest with me." Even to me my voice sounded small and scared. I sighed and rubbed my face, trying to stay awake to finish telling them what'd happened.

I could see they were both getting ready to interrupt with questions, but I held up a hand to stop them; I only wanted to tell this story once. "They had glowing red eyes and were all such a deep black. They were like shadows until they had me surrounded."

I wasn't sure how to continue; if I told them Malfoy saved me, they'd want to know why he would do something like that. If I told them that the wolves were Voldemort's new toy, they'd want to know how I knew. And Malfoy would be furious if he found out I'd told Harry and Ron what had happened.

"What did you do?" Ron leaned forward in his seat looking tense, like he was waiting for the ending of a particularly exciting story. I supposed in a way, he was. But this story was something much more personal for me than something made up – not that Ron seemed to possess any empathy for my traumatic experience at the moment.

"First, you two have to understand I'm terrified of dogs. I'm worse than Ron is with spiders." Ron looked like he was going to take offense, but I gave him a look and continued.

"I had my back against a tree and they cornered me..." My hands in my lap became very interesting as my cheeks heated with embarrassment about my actions. "I ran." It was a whisper directed at my hands, but I knew they heard it. I was ashamed that I hadn't been brave enough to stay and face my fear, even while my logical mind told me that fleeing was the only reason I'd survived.

Harry, the closer of the two, put a comforting hand on my shoulder. "It's all right to be scared Hermione." He hesitated, squeezing my shoulder to show his support. "What happened after that?"

"I won't lie to you, but you have to swear you won't ask for motives when I explain." I knew it sounded confusing to them, but I'd decided that they needed to know everything I did about those wolves, and that information would be hard to acquire without a connection to the dark side; they would have demanded to know _how _I knew these things if I'd tried to keep it from them.

I tensed as something occurred to me; could Malfoy have found out the information he'd inadvertently given me without actually being a Death Eater? A new weight settled on my chest when I realized it was unlikely. Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater – I couldn't believe that he was a good one, but he more than likely had the mark.

"Hermione, why would we worry about the motives of wolves?" Had I not been so exhausted, I probably would've rolled my eyes at Ron's silly question.

"Just swear." I watched as the boys shared a confused and worried glance, but they agreed – reluctantly.

"Malfoy saw me going into the forest and came to find me. He killed a few of them and then left me in the entrance hall when we got back." Harry and Ron both looked like they were going to say something, but I once again held up a hand.

"He told me that the wolves were 'the Dark Lord's newest toy,' that they were to hunt down his enemies." Harry's eyes immediately darkened with suspicion, I could already see his newest conspiracy theories circling around in that twisted imagination of his.

"Why did he save you?"

I shook my head and shakily stood up, feeling a little better after my rest by the fire. "You swore you wouldn't ask. I really need sleep."

Considering how exhausted I was, I moved surprisingly quickly, getting to the stairs to the girls' dormitory before Harry or Ron could stop me and demand a better explanation. Since they couldn't set a foot on the staircase without it turning into a slide, I was safe from their battery of questions – at least until morning, but by then a full night's rest will have recharged my poor, overtired brain.

* * *

As I slept, I was haunted by dreams of shadow wolves and glowing red eyes. The restful repose my exhaustion should have allowed me was elusive as I tossed and turned for what felt like the entire night.

Before I knew it, Lavender and Parvati were up and about, getting ready for the day and giggling with no concern that they might wake me up. It was with a nasty scowl in their direction that I finally got out of bed. You'd think near-death experiences would warrant a bit of a lie-in the next morning.

My foul temper didn't improve as I got dressed – if anything, it worsened. I really could have done without the snide comments from my roommates about the state of my hair. It wasn't _my_ fault that I'd been running through foliage and then tossing and turning all night.

Harry and Ron were waiting for me in the common room when I got there. Judging from the looks on their faces, they weren't very pleased with me. Well, that was just fine, because I wasn't very pleased with the entire world at the moment. I walked right past them and out the portrait hole before they could start demanding the answers they'd promised not to ask for.

"Hermione, wait!" Harry caught up to me as I entered the hallway. Ron followed behind him looking petulant.

"We're sorry; we just don't like it when you keep secrets about _Malfoy_ of all people."

The _nerve_ of him! "Because you two are nothing if not honest to me?" I didn't need to list all of the things the two of them had kept from me over the years, I could see from their expressions that they were starting to feel guilty for treating me like an enemy for one little secret.

"Speaking of secrets, what was it that you two were doing in the kitchens last night?"

Harry glanced both ways down the hallway, making sure that there was no one to overhear before he spoke. "We were going to break into the room of requirement to see what Malfoy's doing in there."

Bugger. I probably should have told them I knew Malfoy was using the room of lost things when I'd found out. If my two friends found out I was keeping more Malfoy-related secrets, then their heads would probably explode.

"There's something else I have to tell you, but not here. Meet us in the common room tonight?" Harry continued.

I nodded and we moved on to the Great Hall for breakfast. "Just remember it'll have to be late, I have patrol tonight."

Ron was shooting me strange looks, but I couldn't figure them out, so I just dismissed them. I assumed he was just upset that I wasn't as straightforward as he had thought.

* * *

Malfoy was already waiting when I showed up for our patrol. When I caught sight of his tall frame leaning against the wall, I slowed my steps; over the course of the day, I'd realized that I hadn't actually thanked him for saving my life. Sure, I'd kind of thrown myself at him with gratitude and the need for comfort, but he probably took that as more of an insult than thanks.

Despite my slow steps, I eventually stood awkwardly in front of him. I couldn't help but shuffle uncomfortably as I tried to force the words out of my mouth. Malfoy raised an amused eyebrow in question as he watched my excruciating obvious discomfort.

"Thank you for... yesterday." There, I'd said it. The eyebrow immediately dropped to join the other one in a scowl.

"_Never_ speak of that." He turned as started stalking away, leaving me to follow.

Well, I hadn't been expecting a polite 'you're welcome,' but he could've been a little more polite. I sighed but followed after him.

* * *

"What is it you had to tell me?" I asked my friends as I plopped down into one of the chairs in the common room. My patrol had been uneventful – and by uneventful, I mean _really_ uneventful. We hadn't come across a single person and Malfoy had refused to say a word to me after his initial angry snarl.

When I sat down with them, Ron got up and left. I watched as he disappeared into the boy's dormitory. "What's going on with him?"

Harry sighed as he looked after Ron as well. "As far as I can figure, he's feels like you've betrayed us because you have a secret about Malfoy."

"Oh for Heaven's sake!" I threw my arms into the air in frustration. Ron needed to grow up and realize we were on the cusp of a war; there were more important things at stake than secrets.

I sighed, forcing the red-headed moron from my mind before turning back to Harry. "What were you going to tell me?"

"Dumbledore called me to his office yesterday, he told me about something called Horcruxes. Do you know anything about them?" I wracked my brain, but couldn't remember coming across more than a passing mention of the things before. This was new to me; I didn't know the answer to a question Harry asked.

I shook my head. "No, tell me." So he did. Harry explained that they were bits of Voldemort's soul that would need to be destroyed before Voldemort could die. A cold chill washed over me. The more he explained, the colder I felt until it had settled in a bone-deep sense of dread.

"Do we have any idea what we're looking for?"

Harry tilted his head to the side and contemplated my question. "I think Dumbledore does. I have a feeling he's not going to tell me what _exactly_ we're looking for until he has to."

I grinned at him. "Because he doesn't want you running off and getting yourself killed while you try to be a hero."

"Probably," he muttered, turning his face away and blushing slightly. At least he was willing to own up to the hero complex that had plagued him since first year.

"I told McGonagall that when Dumbledore gets back, we need to talk to him. I think he should know about those wolves in the forest."

I nodded to Harry, it was a good idea. A huge yawn made my jaw crack. "I'm going to bed."

Harry waved goodbye but he wasn't really paying attention. He'd pulled out the Maurader's Map and was scanning it intently. I was betting that Malfoy was headed to the Room of Requirement again and Harry thought if he stared at the little dot long enough, he might be able to figure out what he did in the room.

After making sure to cast a silencing spell around my bed so that giggles wouldn't wake me up, I settled into bed, hoping for a relaxing night's sleep. For once.

* * *

Ron still wasn't speaking to me the next day, and Harry kept giving me sympathetic looks. It was enough to drive a girl insane.

By the end of the day, it was almost a relief to head to patrol – Malfoy may be a prat, but he was consistently a prat. A consistent prat that was late.

I gave him twenty minutes before I left without him, fully expecting him to show up at some point during the course of my patrol and tell me to not get my knickers in a twist when I tried to scold him for being late. But he never showed up.

At the end of my patrol, I was furious with him. If I didn't owe him for the saving-my-life thing, I would've reported him – probably. He was probably sitting in the Slytherin common room laughing with his friends over how I had to stay out late in the cold halls while he was warm and comfortable.

Well, I might as well make the time in the halls worth-while. A nice, warm fudge brownie made by the elves in the kitchen had the ability to make almost any bad day start looking up. Yes, that's what I'd do; go to the kitchens and have a brownie. I deserved it, after all.

It was close to two in the morning when I finally left the kitchen. The elves had been more than happy to bring me one. Actually, they'd brought me an entire plate, but it was the middle of the night, I didn't need that much chocolate.

I was almost at the stairs in the entrance hall when the outside door creaked open a crack. I panicked and ducked down by the banister, hoping the shadows would hide me from whoever it was.

As the figure turned to close the door, his almost white hair, luminescent in the shaft of moon-light gave him away. I stood up straight and started heading over to him. "Malfoy!" I hissed when he didn't seem to notice my approach.

_Where had he gone that he was just getting back after two in the morning?_ I had a feeling it hadn't been a social call that had taken him out of the castle.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to celiacprincess and the anonymous reviewer cuuu, who reminded me that I have more of this story to post. I believe cupcakes were mentioned? **

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I'll try to get the next chapter up in a reasonable amount of time this time...**

**~Frosty**

He groaned a little as he let go of the door, sounding like he was in pain. My scowl and the lecture I was about to start on melted away and were replaced with concern as he seemed to be struggling to walk.

"Are you all right?"

I moved within arm's reach of him, and tentatively reached out a hand, touching his shoulder to get his attention. When he didn't immediately whip around and yell at me for soiling him with my Mudblood germs, I knew something was _very_ wrong. Malfoy never ignored a perfectly good chance to insult her.

"Just leave me alone Granger." His voice was tight with pain and hoarse, probably from screaming. Someone had really hurt him.

"I will _not_ just leave you alone!"

I walked around him, tipping my chin back to meet his eyes. I gasped when I saw the state of his face. A gaping slash marred his left cheek, bleeding sluggishly as I looked on with horror. There was a large dark spot in his hair that was probably blood.

"You're hurt." I unconsciously reached a hand towards his face, but I stopped when he glared. The prickly git was not one to accept help easily and certainly wouldn't thank me for felling empathy towards him.

"Don't touch me." He sounded like he'd been trying for dangerous, but only managed to sound like he was in pain.

Never one to listen to him, I grabbed his arm and gently pulled him towards a different hallway than the one that led towards the dungeons. He feebly tugged, trying to get possession of his arm back, but he just didn't have the strength in his weakened state. I wasn't about to let him crawl to some dark corner of the castle and just bleed out like an injured cat. His bloody pride was going to get him killed one day, but it wasn't going to be today. I wouldn't allow it.

He mumbled something that sounded like 'Mudblood,' at one point, causing me to glance over my shoulder at him. He looked murderous, particularly with all that blood on his face, but he also looked exhausted. Apparently his tormenting of me was contingent upon how much energy he had to summon up the hate.

"You can scream all you want later, just shut up and come with me." I had no illusions that he would thank me for this – he was almost guaranteed to scream at me for daring to touch him. But I wasn't about to let him pass out in the halls somewhere and die because I was worried about what his reaction would be later.

I tickled the pair for the second time that night, and we were both immediately swarmed by worried House Elves. "Could I have a bowl of water, some ice, cloths and a disinfectant potion please?" I asked the elves as I pushed Malfoy down in a chair.

I caught a look into his eyes as I gave him a gentle shove. The usual sharp silver was clouded with shock and pain, giving him a startlingly empty look. It was eerie, resonating with something inside me and making me near frantic to get him back to health. He shouldn't wear that expression.

Once again, the elves were more than happy to provide me with everything I asked for. I settled in the chair beside Malfoy and reached for his face with the cloth, needing to wipe off some of the blood before I could judge the extent of the damage.

He flinched a little, but held still when I brought the cloth to his face to clean off some of the blood.

"What happened to you?" My whisper was horrified but loud in the quiet kitchen. I hadn't intended to ask anything, but it had just slipped out.

Surprisingly, Malfoy brought his hand up to his cheek and pointed to the gash. "This one's from Father's cane, he hit me across the face. This one –" he pointed to the dark patch in this hair –"is from hitting my head on the floor while the Dark Lord had me under the Cruciatus Curse."

He'd been in contact with Voldemort? His own _Father_ had hurt him so badly? I felt nauseous just thinking about how much pain he must have been in – must _still_ be in.

"Why would they do this?" I really should have just left it at what he'd said, but my curiosity had always been insatiable.

"Those Shadow Wolves I killed in the forest can only be killed by a special spell that no one knows but Death Eaters. Snape and I are the only ones at Hogwarts that know that spell, and Snape was called to the Dark Lord to report on the status of the wolves."

Wait... Malfoy and Snape were in the forest checking on the wolves? The two people I'd seen going into the forest must have been them. That explained how Malfoy had managed to get there just in the nick of time, it was possible he'd been watching me since I set foot amongst the trees.

Malfoy was just a fountain of information tonight; he'd admitted he was a Death Eater. Maybe he was using the things he was saying to distract him from the pain I was causing him. The way his eyes were glazed over was starting to worry me, so I asked another question to keep him occupied as I gently dabbed away the worst of the clotted blood.

"Do you really agree with everything the Death Eaters say?"

I quickly dabbed the disinfecting potion on the wound on his cheek and then closed it with my wand. He hissed quietly at the sting, but didn't complain. The tension in his shoulders and jaw eased slightly once the cut was closed. Only slightly though, I had a feeling it was the bump on the head and aftershocks from the curse that were really bothering him.

After sparing a second to make sure the scar had completely sunk into his pale skin, leaving it unmarred, I moved behind him to look at the bump on his head.

"No." He was speaking through gritted teeth, I'd thought it was because he was in pain, but it was starting to seem like he was being forced to answer the questions. My eyes widened in horror.

Oh Merlin, they'd given him Veritaserum, and I was only prolonging his torture.

"Malfoy, did they give you Veritaserum?" I had to find out for sure, there was still a small chance he was just in a sharing mood...

"Yes." He gritted out. Well, that explained the glazed look in his eyes; some of it was probably from shock, but I was betting the majority was from the potion.

I Scourgified the blood out of his hair – there would be no removing it with the cloth, so he just had to endure the addition sting of the cleansing spell- and moved the strands out of the way so I could see the damage. It was a pretty big bump and he'd hit it on something uneven, so there was a cut on the lump.

"They wanted to know _why_ I killed their wolves."

I looked down at him, surprised. That part was information freely given because I hadn't asked a question. I was sorely tempted to demand to know if he'd told them he'd been saving me, but I didn't feel right forcing the answer out of him.

I winced in sympathy when I dabbed the disinfectant potion and he flinched badly. "Sorry," I murmured. "Almost done."

I sealed the cut on his head and gently pressed the ice to the lump. The ice would bring the swelling down, and the pain numbing spell I cast on his head would let him think clearer. I couldn't do anything if he had a concussion though.

"You're not going to ask if I told them why?"

I didn't answer him immediately, instead I grabbed his hand and put it against the ice so I could let go.

"I'm not going to force you to tell me something, particularly after what you've just been through." I walked back around him so I could see his face. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

His eyes unconsciously darted down to his left arm, and back to me, but he didn't say anything. Apparently the Veritaserum was starting to wear off. I rolled my eyes. "Give me your arm."

"It's fine." I may have believed him if he hadn't winced when he brought his arm protectively to his chest. Why hadn't he told me about his injured arm earlier? He'd listed all of his other injuries.

"You've already told me what's there. I promise not to be surprised, now give me your arm."

Normally Malfoy would have snapped at me, called me a few names and then turned and left if I dared to order him around. Normally he wasn't tired, hurt, and in pain. He stared hard at me for a second before surrendering his arm.

If something horrible hadn't caused it, I might've almost liked this docile Malfoy. I unbuttoned his sleeve and pulled it up to his elbow carefully, not sure where the injury was.

My eyes skimmed over the Dark Mark on his forearm. I tried to move them past it to find the injury, but they stayed on it a moment longer. His skin was so pale and the mark was so dark, the contrast only added to the horror Malfoy had permanently branded onto his skin.

"You look surprised." His voice snapped me out of the trance I'd been in.

"Not surprised... just disappointed." My eyes moved on past the Mark to where there was a bruise so dark it almost rivalled the tattoo lower on the limb. It looked like it hurt like hell.

"It's not like I wanted _any_ of this," Malfoy snapped at me.

I healed the bruise as well as I could before casting the same pain relieving spell I'd used on his head.

"I didn't say I was disappointed in you. I'm disappointed that you have it even though you never wanted it." It was the truth; no one should have to be bound into what was essentially slavery to a psychopath just because of the decisions of his parents.

I'd healed him the best I could, and he did look a little better, but he needed rest. I took a step away to give him his space before I voiced my next thought.

"There are other options you know, the Order could protect you." I couldn't let him walk back to his Dark Lord thinking there was nothing else he could do.

"I _have_ no options," he spat at me. He tried to jump out of his chair, but all he managed was a strangled groan while he leant heavily on the table.

I hovered anxiously at his side. "You shouldn't be trying to move so quickly. I've read that the after-effects of the Cru-"

"I know all about the after-effects of the Cruciatus!"

I was horrified all over again; this wasn't the first time something so horrible had happened to him?

He pushed off the table and stiffly made his way to the door.

"Please consider the Order."

I wasn't begging. I _wasn't_. I just couldn't bear the thought that this was probably going to happen to him again, possibly worse next time. I got between him and the door so he had to see my eyes and know that I was serious in asking him. I wouldn't put it past him to think I was only filling my do-gooder quota for the day.

"Why are you so sure that there's good in me?" He sounded frustrated, and the lines of exhaustion on his face deepened as he searched my eyes.

"For the same reason you're sure there's something worth saving in me even though I'm only a Mudblood."

"I don't have options." This time he sounded less vehement and more defeated. I didn't stop him when he shuffled around me and left.

The elves that had made themselves scarce while I had been healing Malfoy all surrounded me once he was gone. "Can wes do anything else for you?"

I felt bad asking them for anything, and here I was making a bunch of demands in the same night. I was a hypocrite. How was I any better than those people who enslaved them? I made a mental note to knit more hats in the near future. Maybe my persistence would get through to them.

My hand was on the doorknob when a voice stopped me. "Friend of Harry Potter! Your clothes is covered in blood!"

I looked down at my robes and shuddered. My cuffs and a few patches of my sweater had splashes of blood on them. When had that happened?

A quick fix was the best I could do at the moment; I couldn't exactly walk through the halls covered in blood. Malfoy must have been worse off than I was, but he didn't have as far to go.

I was definitely going to need a shower before I went to bed. I knew it was impossible, but I felt like I had his blood in my _pores_. Lots of scrubbing was in order. I needed to get all traces off of my skin; it was unfortunate that I wouldn't be able to do the same to my mind.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**A/N: Look at me, all updating and such. Well readers, it's nasty weather out there. I woke up at 6:30am to go to class, get there, and the prof's sick so she sends us home again. I was happy to get out of class, but otherwise pretty irritated.**

**Anyway! That was my rant for the day. I haven't posted anything in almost a month and thought it was about time I put something up. I'm still on the fence about this story, I have one more chapter and then the pre-written will be all used up. I'll see what happens after that.**

**Lastly (but probably most importantly), thanks to Irianaceleste for betaing this!**

**~Frosty**

Continued contact with Draco Malfoy was doing horrible things to my sleeping habits. Who could have a comfortable night's sleep after hearing the things he'd told me? I'd always had vivid dreams as a child, something that had never particularly bothered me, but they made for disturbingly vivid nightmares as well. All night I saw Malfoy stumbling in the door and turning to reveal the blood running down his face. Unlike with imagine nightmares of mysterious monsters under the bed and whatnot, these nightmares didn't disperse upon awakening; they were real.

When I finally crawled out of bed in the morning, I didn't feel rested at all.

"You look like you haven't slept in weeks," was the first thing Harry said when he saw me. It wasn't true, but it was close enough; I hadn't slept properly in days.

"I'll be fine, it's just because I have to stay up late for patrol." This was almost true. If I hadn't been patrolling the halls with Malfoy he wouldn't have brought up the past life thing and none of this mess would have started. Besides, I only had two days of patrolling left, what could possibly – I stopped myself from finishing that thought, not wanting to jinx it.

* * *

When I showed up that night to the place Malfoy and I were to meet, I noticed that something had changed. It wasn't something huge, and it probably wouldn't be noticeable to other people, but Malfoy's heart wasn't in his insults anymore.

"Let's get this over with Mudblood," he said as soon as he saw me. It was like he was reading lines he knew he should be saying, there was none of the venom I'd become accustomed to coming from him. Usually, his words were positively dripping with it. Something had shifted between us. It's hard to let someone patch you up and hear your secrets without the incident altering your feelings slightly.

He was obviously trying for the normalcy that kept slipping away between us, so I played along and said my line back, "after you, prat."

There, that was sufficiently savage, wasn't it? The slight down-turning of his smirk told me I hadn't quite managed the hostility he'd been aiming for, but then, neither had he so what had he been expecting?

"Purity before dirt," he snarled. That was a little closer to the normal vehement hatred. He was a quick study; I was going to have to work on my acting if I wanted to keep pace.

He pushed past me and stormed down the hall, head held high. I noticed that he was still walking a little stiffly, but I didn't dwell on it; he would probably be able to feel my sympathy and use it as a reason to verbally tear me apart.

A sound behind me made me pause. Was that a footstep?

Taking a page out of Malfoy's book, I carefully placed my feet when I stepped so that I was completely silent. It was actually a very handy skill to have, and the fact that Malfoy had given me the idea was a secret I was planning on taking to my grave. His ego was big enough; I didn't want to risk making it any bigger.

My quieter stride drew a questioning look from Malfoy, who had slowed down enough for me to catch him since we had been instructed to keep pace with each other when we patrolled for safety reasons. The professors didn't want any incidents with prefects suffering injuries because they were walking alone in the dark.

'Someone's following us,' I mouthed to him, making sure to turn my head so that whoever was behind us couldn't see.

He gave me a very tiny nod to show that he'd heard but didn't give away that we knew by glancing behind him. As a sneaky Slytherin, he knew better than that.

Both of us slowly moved our hands to our wands.

I could tell that Malfoy could now hear the footsteps as well; he was more alert and walking more smoothly instead of stiffly from pain. I wasn't naive enough to think he was no longer hurting; he just couldn't limp and keep silent at the same time and had chosen stealth over comfort.

He subtly jerked his head to the side, indicating the hallway branching off ahead of us. It was a good idea; we could surprise whoever it was behind us when they tried to follow around the bend.

We turned the corner and Malfoy grabbed my arm to drag me behind a statue. I looked at him, shocked that he'd willingly touch me so casually. He didn't even seem to realize that he'd done it; it had just been a reflexive thing for him.

I saw a flash of a shoe as someone came around the corner after us. A familiar shoe.

"Accio Invisibility Cloak." My whispered spell caught Malfoy by surprise, I could feel him jump beside me, but I ignored him.

My guess had been correct; as the cloak obediently flew into my hand, it revealed Ron, looking confused.

"No surprise there," I heard Malfoy mutter to himself. I ignored him and stepped out from behind the statue.

"Ronald! Why are you following me?"

From a young age, I've had a tendency to get screechy when I'm upset, and this situation was no exception. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Malfoy wince at my tone as he came out of our hiding place behind me, but I wasn't paying attention to him.

Ron had looked almost sorry when I'd first yelled, but when he saw that I'd been in the small space behind the statue with Malfoy he turned bright red. "I was trying to find out what was going on with you! I think I've got my answer," he spat.

He was only a few seconds behind us, what did he think we were doing back there? There'd barely been time for us to hide, much less get up to the disturbing things he was picturing!

I shuddered at the image of Malfoy pressing me up against the wall in the dark space we'd just occupied. It was a shudder of revulsion! Definitely not pleasure at the idea.

That would be gross. He was all... ferrety.

"You're being ridiculous! We were hiding because someone was following us!" I screeched. I could feel my face starting to redden with anger. When had Ron become my keeper? If following me and then yelling at me for something I didn't do was his twisted way of showing affection, then I wanted nothing to do with him!

Malfoy crossed his arms and leaned against a wall, settling in for the show. I was glad he wasn't interfering, but I couldn't help but notice his hand was still on his wand. He was expecting trouble from Ron. I may have been pissed off at my redheaded friend, but I didn't believe he would attack me, or even Malfoy.

"And what was it you did when you thought someone was following you?"

I had no idea where he was going with this question.

"I told Malfoy that someone was following us so –"

"Exactly!" Ron took a step forward. "You went to this arse for protection!"

"It's our job as prefects to catch people wandering in the hall. Granger was doing exactly like she was supposed to like a good little rule-following Gryffindor," Malfoy finally spoke up with something helpful for once.

Before I could do something to shop him, Ron had whipped out his wand and cursed Malfoy, causing a deep cut in the blond's shoulder.

My furious shout of "RON!" was drowned out by an angry, wordless yell from Malfoy. I was pretty sure Malfoy had been ready for that spell, but his reflexes were probably dulled from the stiffness he'd been fighting against all day. Merlin, his previous injuries weren't even fully healed and he was already gaining more. I tried to squish away the little seed of worry that was growing for the blond. I was beginning to think he was in over his head. Surprisingly, I didn't want him dead.

I watched, frozen in horror as Malfoy raised his wand and pointed it at Ron. "Cruc-"

"Draco, not that one!" I shouted unthinkingly. His first name had just slipped out of my mouth, but it was enough to make him listen to me and obey my request. The use of that spell was enough to get him expelled and thrown into Azkaban. Plus, Ron may be a thoughtless idiot who had pushed things too far, but he didn't deserve to be Crucio'd for it.

I had zero sympathy for Ron as Malfoy hit him with what looked like a hex for nasty boils. I'd never seen it before, so it was most likely a dark curse. I hoped it hurt.

"Aren't you and Malfoy just friendly now?" Ron sneered.

In trying to save him from an Unforgiveable, I'd inadvertently made the entire situation worse. There was just no winning!

My mouth was moving, but I couldn't seem to get anything out. We weren't friendly, we were enemies! And Ron needed to learn to trust me. I had been handling the situation perfectly fine before he'd barged in with his distorted ideas of what I should and shouldn't do. His interference had only made the situation so much worse.

Ron took my silence as agreement and stormed away, hopefully to the Hospital Wing to have those boils looked at. They were looking increasingly painful.

I groaned and covered my face with my hands. Hot tears were threatening to overflow and spill down my cheeks and I couldn't control the pathetic trembling in my lip. While I didn't have much affection for him at the moment, Ron was one of my closest friends and his words had hurt me more than I was willing to admit. He always seemed to be making me cry with his careless words.

A hiss of pain reminded me that Malfoy was still present. I stopped focusing on stemming the flow of tears, letting them fall as I looked at his shoulder to judge the damage.

It was pretty bad.

"Any chance you'll go to the Hospital Wing to get that looked at?" My question came out watery and ended in a sniffle, but it was clear. I wasn't going to leave him bleeding in the hallway, but I needed to have some words with Ron before he got back to the Gryffindor common room and started spreading stories about me.

The scornful look on his face made it obvious he had no intentions of going anywhere near the Hospital Wing.

"Sit down," I sighed. It would be easier to heal him if I could actually reach his shoulder.

I knew the wound was even deeper than it looked when Malfoy didn't argue with me or even throw a half-hearted insult in my direction. He kept his back against the wall and sunk to the floor without a word.

The way he was sitting forced me to face him as I looked at his shoulder, which didn't help the awkwardness of the situation. I was a little worried about him losing blood, with all he'd lost last night combined with this new wound, it had to add up to a lot.

I was definitely too close to him. He smelled of expensive soap, outside air, and the tangy metal smell of fresh blood. Patching his wounds seemed to be becoming something of a habit for me.

"I don't have anything to disinfect it with, but I can clean it."

He barely acknowledged my warning, but it was enough for me.

I quickly cast a Scourgify on the cut and sealed the two pieces of skin together which was the magical equivalent of stitches. The pieces of skin were held together by magic, so it was completely possible for him to tear them and start the bleeding again. If he wanted the skin knit back together, he needed to see a Mediwitch since that sort of spell was beyond my skill.

"You really should get this looked at by Madam Pomfrey."

"Just cast the sodding pain relief spell," he gritted out between clenched teeth. I took that as a 'no way in hell'.

Sighing at his stubborn idiocy, I cast the spell and leaned back on my heels, surveying the healing job. "Malfoy, that's going to leave a pretty big scar if you don't get it looked at by someone who's been properly trained."

"It won't be my first scar. Now get away from me before someone comes and finds you half in my lap," he snapped at me.

His order made me realize that I was awfully close to him, closer than I had realized. I fell off my heels and onto my butt in my haste to put more space between the two of us. There was probably an undignified squeak in there somewhere, but I wasn't paying attention.

"I'll just be – that is... Common room!" My rushed explanation probably would have had him laughing loudly if he hadn't been so badly injured. I must have looked like an idiot stuttering over my words and then rushing away.

That was mortifying. That was worse than mortifying. It didn't help that I could hear Malfoy's amused snort as I fled. Great, now he had even more fodder for insults, and he already seemed to have more than enough material, I didn't have to help him.

I used the walk back to wipe my tears and remove as much of the evidence that I'd been crying as I could.

It was late enough that there weren't very many people left in the common room when I entered. Harry and Ron were in front of the fire in a heated conversation and there were a few fourth years playing chess in a corner, but other than that, the room was empty.

I made my way over to my friends, casting a silencing spell around us when I got there; our lives weren't any of those fourth years business and I had a feeling Ron was going to loudly voice his displeasure about my alleged relationship with a certain blond. I could tell from the way Harry was looking at me with disappointment and betrayal that he believed the poison Ron had spread about me. Why did neither of them ever give me the benefit of the doubt?

"You're honestly going to interrogate me for doing my duty as a prefect?" My hands were on my hips and my foot what tapping; they needed to trust me a little more.

I was evilly pleased to see that Ron hadn't managed to get rid of the boils. It seemed I was spending way too much time with Malfoy. Only one more patrol and then I wouldn't have to see him one-on-one ever again.

Oddly, there was a small part – a very small part – of me that was kind of disappointed.

Neither of them said a word to me. I'd expected this from Ron, but I'd hoped for better from Harry.

"Harry, you're just going to listen to whatever skewed version of reality Ron's told you?" I demanded angrily.

I knew I had him when I saw guilt and regret flash across his green eyes. "He said you were going around giggling behind statues with Malfoy, and then egged him on while Malfoy cursed him."

I wanted to scream. Sod it, we were silenced. I did scream in frustration with the immaturity of Ron.

"We were behind the statue, but there was no giggling-" I looked pointedly at Ron "-Someone was following us! We were waiting to catch whoever it was! There was only a period of about five seconds where Ron couldn't see the both of us.

"As for the cursing: I stopped Malfoy from using an Unforgivable after Ron used a nasty curse that made a huge slice in Malfoy's shoulder."

I was breathing heavily by the time I finished with my little rant. Harry's eyebrows went up and he looked to Ron with a question in his eyes.

"Why do I feel like Hermione's version is the truth?" was all he said.

"Ask her why she took so long to come back to the common room!" Ron exclaimed triumphantly. It was almost like he thought we were playing some kind of game and he'd just revealed the final move, obliterating his opponent.

"I had to heal Malfoy so he didn't die in the hall! That hardly proves any of your lies true; it just shows that I'm not the kind of person who can overlook suffering," I gave them both hard looks. "But I'd like to think both of you already knew that."

I left them there to think about what I'd told them. I needed to get out of there before the tears started up again. They'd probably think the tears were for Malfoy and disown me or something.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**A/N: Hello readers! You guys convinced me to at least try to finish this story with your wonderful reviews, so thanks for that! I'm actually midway through writing chapter 11 right now.**

**Thanks of Irianaceleste for betaing!**

**Also, I have news! The Devil's Secretary was nominated for best comedy over at the Spring 2012 round of the HP Fanfic Fan Poll Awards! I was so excited to get the email, so thanks to whoever nominated me and make sure to vote for your favourite once voting starts on February fourth (there's a link in my profile).**

**~Frosty**

Mercifully, our last night of patrol together was cancelled - something about Snape needing Malfoy for an extracurricular activity. Since Snape didn't supervise any extracurricular activities save for detention, I could only assume that Malfoy's presence was required by Voldemort. I was worried for him, but there wasn't exactly anything I could do.

Malfoy seemed fine when I saw him in class the next day, but I knew from experience that he could be in a fair bit of pain and still seem like his usual venomous self in class. I didn't look too far into what had given him the ability to block out pain so well; it would probably only make me feel sorry for him, and I knew for certain that he wouldn't like that.

It was possible that Snape had just wanted to give him a talking to. It was also possible that Voldemort had called a meeting and he'd been tortured within an inch of his life only last night and now was forced to put on a front for the entire school.

I pushed those thoughts to the back of my head, reminding myself there was nothing I could do for him if he didn't want my help. Until he asked for assistance, I had to leave him to handle his own problems.

* * *

Months later, when worry for Malfoy was no longer in the forefront of my mind, suppressed and then shoved aside by stress about out end-of-the-year exams, Harry gave Ron and I some interesting news.

Harry had accepted my truth over Ron's lies, but Ron refused to treat me the same as before. Instead, he chose to act as though I was just this person he expected to betray him and so was in the background all the time. I had been reduced to white noise, a static in his life. It hurt, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of letting it show.

"Dumbledore told me he thinks there's a Horcurx here at Hogwarts," Harry whispered excitedly, "And he's asked me to find it!"

It was the middle of the night and the three of us were the only ones in the common room, but it was still wise to refrain from raising out voices. One could never know who was listening. In the magical world, the walls sometimes literally had ears.

"Did he give you anything more specific?" I asked.

I was happy for Harry that Dumbledore was finally letting him help with something and all, but the old man was always so vague. We were at war and he still got off on only giving us half of the information we needed to properly do our jobs.

"He said it's Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem... Whatever that is. Dumbledore had no idea where it could be, only that it was somewhere on the school grounds," Harry said.

My eyes widened. I knew what a diadem was. Better yet, I'd seen one!

"Do you know what it is Hermione?" Harry asked. He must have misinterpreted my triumph as smugness for knowing what a diadem was. I wasn't that excited about knowing things Harry didn't. If I was, I'd be wandering around in a constant state of euphoria, which just wasn't practical.

"It's like a crown, but I can do better than that. I've seen one recently! Wait here."

I was up and out of the room before either of them could react. I listened for their footsteps behind me as I ran, but they never came. It was comforting to know Harry trusted me enough to do this on my own, whether Ron did or not. However, it was also possible that they just thought I was being mental and there was no way I'd be able to find it so quickly... I preferred to think it was the former.

My pacing in front of the Room of Requirement was fast and impatient. When the door finally appeared, I ripped it open and rushed inside too fast to stop myself from colliding with the person who had been standing on the other side of it.

"Ow," I groaned from the tangle of limbs we'd landed in. Luckily – for me at least – I'd landed on top of him, so I wasn't crushed.

"Granger, get off of me!"

"I'm trying!" I really was trying, but every time I managed to almost get free, he tried to get me off of him faster and I fell back against him. Eventually, he got frustrated and just stood up, shoving me to the floor.

"What are you doing here?" He spat from way above me as I pulled myself to my feet and rubbed my sore butt – he didn't have to throw me so hard.

Oh! I'd nearly forgotten. "The evil diadem," I mumbled, heading towards the bucket of goo I'd dropped it in. I couldn't really blame the thing for giving me away before if it was housing part of Voldemort's soul – with part of that man in it, evil was the only thing it could be.

Malfoy followed behind me, watching as I hesitated by the blue goo. There was a chance that it was dangerous to touch; you never knew with magic, I could end up a frog or something worse if I touched it.

The oddly silent Malfoy continued to watch as I levitated the diadem out of the bucket and onto the floor, where I Scourgified all the goo off.

From my repeated readings of Hogwarts a History, I knew that there should be an inscription on the diadem if it was truly the same one Rowena Ravenclaw had worn.

Still hesitant to touch it, I got down on my knees and leaned until I noticed the inscription. My butt sticking up in the air and I didn't doubt that I looked ridiculous, but it was or a greater cause and Malfoy already thought so little of me, what was a little more contempt?

"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure," I read aloud, triumph in my voice. I'd been right!

"Granger, what in the world are you doing?" His voice floated down from somewhere above me. Sure that I had the right diadem, I was free to wonder why Malfoy hadn't once tried to throw me out or threaten me since I'd collided with him.

"Is there a reason you haven't been openly hostile since I ran into you?" I asked, turning around and craning my neck to see his face.

He didn't answer immediately, but he did look away, giving me all the answer I needed. "Actually... I was about to go find you. I want to accept your offer," he said testily.

I stared at him for a few beats, not comprehending his words. I thought I'd heard that he was going to accept my offer of joining the Order, but that couldn't be right...

"Granger, did you hear me?"

"I did, but I think I heard wrong. I could've sworn you just said you wanted to join the Order."

He sat down heavily on the other side of the diadem, making me once again of my awkward position over the Horcrux. I thumped onto my bottom in an undignified manner.

"That's what I said. I can't do what they're asking." His silver eyes stared somewhere over my shoulder, focusing on something. "Do you know what a vanishing cabinet is?"

"A cabinet with a twin that allows passage between the two," I recited, wondering where he was going with his question.

He nodded. "There's one in this room. My job was to fix it and let the Death Eaters into the castle."

I know it's a girly thing to do, but I gasped and covered my mouth with my hands. What can I say? I was surprised that he would do something so... evil. People would've been killed had he succeeded.

Merlin, what if he'd already succeeded and the Death Eaters were already on their way? I went cold at the sudden, horrifying thought.

"You didn't... finish it, did you?" I asked, pushing aside the panic for the moment. It would do me no good to let my mind get away from me before I even knew if there was actual danger.

He gestured over to a blackened lump of snarled and crumpled wood that was still faintly smoking. "I did... And then I destroyed it. No one's getting through now."

I was proud of him for doing the right thing but I didn't let that show, knowing he'd think I was patronising him. "I can't bring you to Order headquarters myself, they're not even letting me join until I'm of age. You're going to have to go through Dumbledore."

A scowl quickly clouded over his face, hiding the weariness and resignation that had been there seconds before. Apparently he'd been under the impression that I was the only one he was going to let in on his little change of heart.

Sometimes I couldn't make sense of the boy. I mean, I had a better chance than most people because I had inside knowledge on his past incarnation, but he was still a mystery to me.

I did, however, know one thing for certain. His soul may be kind, but he'd spent this lifetime living as a Slytherin. If he was going to risk his life and do the right thing, then he had stipulations. I wasn't as gullible as he seemed to think I was.

"There's a catch, right?" I asked, slipping the diadem into my pocket and standing. "You'll come over to our side and give us your knowledge, but only for a price." I crossed my arms over my chest and spaced my feet evenly, balancing on the balls of my feet and ready for anything.

Briefly, I watched as an impressed expression flitted across his face. It was flattering to surprise him like this; it showed that I wasn't as predictable as he liked to pretend.

"Very good, Granger," he said condescendingly. Why was it that Malfoy could make me want to strangle him with only three words and a slight smirk?

"Out with it then, Malfoy. What is it you want from me that you can't get from Dumbledore?"

He smirked and stood as well, gesturing for me to follow behind him. Ugh! He was such a drama queen! I knew for a fact that Bryn had never been one to put on airs, so this dramatic streak of Malfoy's was a construct entirely thanks to this life. It must be a Malfoy thing.

He led me through piles of assorted junk until we reached a pair of squishy chairs like the ones in the Gryffindor common room. These specimens were considerably dustier and in ill repair, but it was still comfortable when I settled into the soft fabric.

"Malfoy, I kind of have somewhere to be, so if you could make this quick..."

I could practically feel the diadem burning a hole in my pocket. Now that I knew what it contained, I wanted it away from me as quickly as possible.

"If I do this, I want you to admit that we had something in a past life, I want you to talk to me about it and stop pretending that it was nothing."

I furrowed my brow in confusion. "Why does this matter so much to you?"

"There are very few people I'm close to, Granger, and while I object to your blood status, our souls call to one another like lonely children who have suddenly spotted a familiar face in a sea of strangers."

I could only blink at him a few times. Who knew Malfoy was prone to waxing poetic? It was actually kind of disturbing to hear coming from someone I assumed to be much more hardened. Was it possible to be a complete arse most of the time but have the heart of a poet?

I think Malfoy managed it.

"Just to clarify, your price is... me?"

He scrunched his nose in an expression of refined distaste. "You make it sound like I want to shag you, Granger. I don't want to touch you, I just want..."

"A friend," I finished for him. I actually felt kind of bad for him, he didn't have many people he could trust in the world and he inherently knew that I was one of the few he could. I assumed he felt that way for the same reason I had always known that he wasn't dangerous to me.

"When you put it like that, it makes me sound pathetic," he complained, that look of distaste still adorning his features.

"That doesn't make it any less true."

"Fine," he snapped, "But if you tell a soul about any of our agreement then the deal is off."

"Then we've got an agreement." I grinned hugely at him and held out my hand. "Welcome to the light side, Malfoy."

He didn't take my hand, but that was to be expected. "'The light side'? Isn't that a little pretentious? I think there are too many shades of gray for there to be a definitive 'light' and 'dark' side."

"Welcome to the side that only might kill you." The fake smile on my face was probably very comforting to him as I reminded him that there was a good chance he wasn't going to survive this war. At the moment, both sides had it out for him.

To my surprise, my statement got a smile out of him. It was bitter, but it was a real smile, not a smirk. "That's closer to honest."

"But if we're going to bicker about which side is light and which is dark, I'd say that the one who wants to commit genocide can usually be safely labelled the 'dark' one," I added, unwilling to be outdone.

He made a face at me, but it was more annoyance than outrage that I'd bothered to correct him.

"You're going to have to take a vow," I said. I was expecting him to be offended, but he only took out his wand and looked at me expectantly.

"What type of vow did you have in mind?" he asked.

There were many different types of magical vows with varying consequences for breaking them. I wanted a simple vow with a penalty of death should it ever be broken.

"We just touch wands and agree never to betray one another," I explained.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, he seemed a little paler than normal. "Granger, that ceremony is awfully close to an archaic marriage ceremony," he warned with none of the revulsion I would have expected.

It seemed I wasn't giving him near enough credit in more than one area. He just kept surprising me.

"Close, but nothing legally binding. We won't be married."

He knew this just as well as I did, so I didn't understand why he needed to reiterate that we weren't in fact getting magically married.

I offered him my wand, the tip glowing a pale gold, the first step of the spell. For a moment he looked hesitant, probably wondering if his choice to change sides was going to get him killed.

When the tips touched, there was a bright flash of light that faded almost instantly, the afterimage in my eyes making it hard to see anything other than reddish black spots.

"I swear to never betray you," I said clearly, causing our wands to start vibrating and glowing again.

Malfoy echoed my words, making both wands vibrate so vigorously that it was difficult to keep a hold on the trembling wood. A burning feeling started around my wrist, increasing until it was nearly unbearable. Just before I screamed in pain, it abruptly disappeared.

I glanced down at my wrist to see a band of pale gold fade into my skin and disappear. If either of us tried to break the vow, it would flare up a bright gold and then almost immediately bring about a quick death.

"It's done," he sighed, sounding relieved.

"You still have to go see Dumbledore. Switching sides will hardly do you any good when I'm the only one who knows what's happened."

The distasteful look was back again. "I will, just not right now. Too much exposure to you Gryffindors is enough to turn my stomach."

I smirked at him. "I'd almost believe that if you hadn't just made my company a stipulation in your agreement to switch sides."

Knowing I had him there, he scowled at me. "Don't you have something to do with that diadem of yours? I saw you slip it into your pocket trying to be secretive." He brightened slightly. "Do I get to know what that whole scene was about now that I'm on your side?"

I glared. "No, now I have something to do, but tomorrow, I'm dragging you to see Dumbledore. Don't keep your hopes up about being told anything either, I'm not sure Dumbledore even lets himself know all of his secrets."

My bet was that Dumbledore kept half of his secrets in a pensive at all times lest he accidentally share something that makes sense with his poor students.

Ha! That took the smug look right off his face.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**A/N: Hello readers! Here's another chapter for you. **

**I'd like to thank all the wonderful people who take the time to write me reviews, I love hearing from you guys! Also, thanks to irianaceleste for betaing (you guys probably would have had to wait much longer if she hadn't reminded me about this chapter...).**

**~Frosty**

A little shaken from the strange encounter I'd just had with Malfoy, I wasn't paying as much attention as I probably should have been to my surroundings. Moody would be so disappointed that my "Constant Vigilance" consisted of not seeing anything as I walked and let my mind run over recent events in my head.

For a while there, Malfoy had made me forget that I had a piece of Voldemort's soul in the inside pocket of my robe, which was a huge feat. I mean, it was a piece of his _soul_. That's just disgusting and creepy on so many levels.

What I was more concerned about was his soul reaching out to me and influencing my decisions. I mean, if Malfoy's soul was capable of making me trust someone I probably shouldn't, then I didn't want to think of the horrible things Voldemort's soul could try and put in my head. The situations and circumstances were completely different, I know, but who would want to take that kind of chance?

Harry and Ron were still right where I'd left them when I got back to the common room. I was actually a little relieved that I didn't have an urge to murder Harry when I saw him. That kind of thing could make our future friendship kind of awkward.

"What took you so long?" Ron demanded as soon as I opened the door.

He had so little faith in me. What did he expect, that I'd run into Malfoy and taken some time to snog him thoroughly before I'd even started looking for the Horcrux? In fact, I'd run into Malfoy, shagged him, and then completely forgotten about the Horcrux!

Speaking of Malfoy, I knew Harry and Ron would be upset with me if they ever found out that I'd been keeping the fact that Malfoy was on our side from them. It wasn't really my secret to tell, and I couldn't imagine they'd be very open to Malfoy changing sides. Ugh. When did my life get so twisted up?

I suppose I couldn't blame them for their lack of trust in Malfoy since they didn't have my knowledge of his soul. They did, however, know me. They treated me like I was some starry-eyed girl, letting an attraction to Malfoy get the better of me – not that I had an attraction to the blond. Nope, not me.

"I apologise, _Ronald_, for not adhering to your predetermined schedule for me," I hissed scathingly. I wasn't going to tell them what had taken me so long, so I had to infuse my words with enough anger that he wasn't going to continue with his line of questioning.

Ron looked properly chastised, but the redness around his ears showed that he was still brassed off at me for scolding him. Left to stew in his anger, he'd probably get increasingly angry until he snapped and said something stupid to me. Most of our rows seemed to start this way.

Harry ignored Ron's childishness. "Did you get the diadem?" he asked, circumventing the argument that I the tension in the air warned me was building.

At least _someone _knew what was important.

"Why, yes, Harry," I said with a pointed look at Ron for ignoring the purpose of my absence, "I did."

With a flourish, I pulled the diadem out of my pocket and handed it to him. It was nice to have it away from me, if only because it was a weight off of my mind.

"What are you going to do with it?" I asked.

Harry turned it over in his hands, probably trying to figure out how something so pretty was so evil. The diadem sparkled innocently in the candlelight, the little flashes of light belaying the horrible things it had been used for. It was a shame really, that Voldemort had ruined such an important piece of Hogwarts history.

"I'll take it to Dumbledore tomorrow and then we'll work on destroying it," he decided.

I wasn't all that thrilled about Harry keeping it with him overnight, but there wasn't much else we could do.

"Where did you find it?" Harry asked, suddenly moving his sharp eyes from the diadem back to me.

I waved off his question as I stood to go to bed, "Just lying around."

They didn't believe me, I could tell. But what was I supposed to say? They were better off in the dark.

I could see the appeal Dumbledore found in never fully explaining what he was thinking. Why give people the full truth when half-truths were so much more interesting?

* * *

After hours of tossing and turning, I eventually gave up on the whole sleeping thing. It seemed I was more excited about Malfoy's changed allegiance than I'd thought. Maybe it was that I wouldn't have to be so torn about him anymore because he wasn't pretending he was evil anymore. I wasn't sure. All I knew was that something was keeping me from sleeping and I was more than eager to take the snarky blond to see the headmaster.

I suppose I was a little worried that Malfoy was going to get himself in some sort of trouble and the only one who would truly know his side would be me. I wasn't sure if I could get him out of any big trouble with just my word that he wasn't working for Voldemort anymore. So really, it was in Mafloy's best interests that I wrote him an urgent owl pretending to be McGonagall and ordering him to meet me in entrance hall. Not that I was expecting him to appreciate my efforts; he didn't strike me as a morning person.

Surprisingly, Malfoy was waiting in the entrance hall when I arrived. I took a moment to examine him while he couldn't see me. He didn't look bleary-eyed and tired as I'd expected, just the usual amount of exhaustion that can be expected from someone under the amount of stress he was.

He didn't spot me immediately, probably because I'd "borrowed" Harry's Invisibility Cloak for the occasion. I figured it would be bad for Malfoy to be seen with me outside of Prefect patrols now that he had a secret that could get him killed should it be discovered. As annoying as he could be sometimes, I didn't actually want him dead, and if his death was due to my carelessness, I'd never forgive myself.

I sidled up beside him, making sure to remain completely silent.

"Malfoy!' I hissed once I was leaning against the wall right beside him. It was closer to him than I'd normally willingly venture, but I didn't want to have to raise my voice more than necessary. Hogwarts had some unusual secrets, but disembodied voices were not the norm.

He started but didn't otherwise show to the passing students that he'd heard me. Not turning his head, he slid his eyes over to where I was standing.

"Invisibility Cloak, Granger?" he asked out of the side of his mouth, barely moving his lips. The boy could probably be a ventriloquist if the whole heir to the Malfoy fortune thing didn't work out for him. "I'm surprised you managed to fit your monstrous mass of hair under a single cloak – or did you have something custom made?"

"Yes, it's an invisibility cloak," I whispered in answer to his first question, the latter wasn't worth my breath. The incident not so long ago with Harry on the train to Hogwarts showed that Malfoy was perfectly aware that Harry owned an Invisibility Cloak. Nevertheless, I was a little impressed with his ability to appear completely unsurprised by my presence. To act as if he'd been expecting a disembodied voice to accost him all along was rather impressive – not that I'd ever tell him that, it would only swell his already large head.

"I assume McGonagall isn't coming to this supposed meeting I'm here for?"

How he sounded bored while still showing no expression on his face or moving his lips was beyond me. I'm sure if I'd tried to affect a bored tone while keeping my lips entirely immobile I'd look like a moron with some sort of facial paralysis.

"No, she's not."

He pushed off the wall and stalked off in the general direction of Dumbledore's office. "Tsk tsk, Granger, impersonating a teacher. You could get in trouble for that sort of thing."

He could be so frustrating once he got started! I was starting to wonder why I bothered helping him. Ungrateful git.

I was so busy glaring at him that I didn't immediately notice that he'd come to a stop. I nearly collided with his back. He couldn't see me, but he did hear my stumbling footsteps.

His snort of amusement made me aware that he was laughing at me even as his face didn't show his laughter. Somehow I felt like I made a fool of myself around him more often than around anyone else.

While the cloak kept him from seeing my glare, it also prevented him from seeing the fierce blush that was staining my cheeks, so I counted it as a blessing. Knowing that no one could see the redness would thankfully make it fade faster.

"I suppose you know the password, Miss Know-It-All?" he drawled. There was no one else in the corridor, so we were free to talk above a whisper, but he still kept his voice hushed in a wise show of caution.

As far as insults went, that was pretty tame for him. Really, it wasn't an insult at all, just something that my friends tended to tease me about. Coming from Malfoy, it was probably as close to a compliment as he was ever going to get.

"Chocolate Frogs," I said, leaning around Malfoy to whisper it to the gargoyle. The stone creature immediately hopped out of the way, admitting us both into the spiral staircase that led to Dumbledore's office.

Once the Gargoyle had hopped back in front of the entrance shielding me from the view of anyone happening to pass by in the corridor, I slipped off the cloak. While it was nice to be invisible sometimes, it was a little stuffy under the cloak. I didn't want to endure it if I didn't have to.

I was the one who knocked on the door when we arrived at the top of the stairs since Malfoy seemed content to just look at me expectantly. He had remained completely silent ever since the gargoyle had stepped out of the way, not even commenting on the mess that was my hair. The rubbing of the cloak's fabric had made the fluffy mass stick up even more than usual. Apparently this was my show and he was just along for the ride.

I knocked.

The door opened on its own, revealing Dumbledore sitting down behind his desk, reading a book.

When I entered followed by Malfoy, the Headmaster looked up at us and smiled. If he was surprised by the seeming truce I had with Malfoy, he didn't show it. I had a theory about Dumbledore; when he didn't know something, he pretended to know it until the cards straightened themselves into a picture that could be understood. That way, he always seemed all-knowing.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at me, making me think that maybe he'd heard that last thought. Note to self: learn Occulmency, especially if I was going to think less than flattering things about Dumbledore.

"What can I do for you, Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore asked, motioning us to take the chairs in front of his desk.

Malfoy seemed to still be waiting for me to take the lead, since he didn't appear willing to answer the simple enough question as he slid into one of the chairs and I did the same. I gave a little huff of irritation before I answered.

I could see Malfoy smirking out of the corner of my eye. Even now he was trying to piss me off. Chances were, Dumbledore had already plucked out the reason for attendance right out of my mind, so speaking the words were just a formality.

Dumbledore steepled his long fingers and stared at Malfoy for a long time. Sure, I'd been the one to drag him to Dumbledore's office, but I thought that Malfoy should tell his own story. I wasn't the one that those twinkling blue eyes were focused on, so Dumbledore was probably thinking the same thing.

For the first time since I'd found him that morning, Malfoy showed an emotion: discomfort.

After a few more moments of increasingly uncomfortable silence, I took pity on the prat and spoke for him. "Malfoy wants to change sides."

"I imagine there were stipulations on this changing of sides?" Dumbledore asked.

Draco nodded, but once again didn't elaborate. It was like he was seeing how long he could go without saying anything! He had to know how much that was bothering me and was probably revelling in it.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow; like me, waiting for a response from the blond. "I assume the protection of your mother was one of them?" He didn't wait for an answer before he continued. "I understand that you're concerned about the wellbeing of your mother. We can arrange-"

Sharply, Malfoy's grey eyes snapped up, so furious and distraught that it sent chills down my spine. Despite the chilling expression, his voice was without inflection when he spoke.

"My mother's dead. The Dark Lord killed her when I was home last," Malfoy said flatly.

I gasped in horror. If Voldemort had left Narcissa alive until Malfoy's visit home, chances were, he'd been waiting to kill her in front of her son. If I hadn't felt sympathy for Malfoy before, I certainly felt it now.

Dumbledore looked genuinely shocked at this news. Maloy's mind must be much better warded than my own. Maybe I could ask him to give me some Occulmency pointers.

"I'm so sorry, Draco," Dumbledore said, looking genuinely mournful. "I taught her, you know. She was a very bright pupil, much like you."

"It's fine," Malfoy hissed, "Get on with this; I want to get my breakfast sometime before noon."

Even if he was pretending everything was fine, I knew it wasn't. How could he be fine after his mother was murdered while he was in the house? Had she been the worst mother in the world, her child would probably still care.

Leaning back in his chair once more, Dumbledore reached into a drawer and pulled out a box of sweets. "Lemon Drop?" he offered.

In a lightning fast move, Malfoy actually knocked the box out of the headmaster's hand, scattering sweets all over the floor and startling me horribly. Malfoy really knew how to take disrespect to another level.

Without thinking about it, I reached over and put a calming hand on Malfoy's arm. As soon as we touched, I realized what I'd done and froze in shock. I'd just willingly reached out and touched him like it was an instinct. It had felt like such a natural thing for me to do. Even more startling than how natural the action had been was that Malfoy didn't pull away. He didn't even look at me. He did, however, relax slightly.

That was something to file away for later examination.

While I was having my little drama with my strange, instinctual impulse to still Malfoy's temper, Dumbledore was staring mournfully at the spilled candy. After a moment, he summoned them, Scourgified them, and then put them right back into their box. He perked back up once they were restored in his desk, where they'd be safe from enraged blondes.

"Before we go any further, Mr. Malfoy, I'd just like to clarify what it is that's brought about this change in you. If it's the personal danger, then I can put you in a safe-house – but you must understand that no one in these troubled times can be guaranteed to survive. However, if it's your conscience that's encouraged this change of heart, you can help the cause and become a spy to help bring these troubling times to an end."

"He can't be a spy!" I said, making them both look at me with a mixture of surprise and confusion. Unconsciously, my fingers clenched where they rested on Malfoy's arm. If he hadn't been wearing long sleeves, my fingernails would probably be digging into his skin.

I could feel myself blushing under the weight of their combined stares. I suppose I could have been less abrupt with me exclamation, maybe quietly interjected instead of raising my voice and squeaking out the words.

"I thought that was the whole point, Granger," Malfoy drawled.

For a moment, I pretended Dumbledore wasn't in the room. He had a vested interest in making Malfoy a spy, but I was more concerned about Malfoy personally than the greater good as a whole.

"You destroyed the Cabinet," I told him, looking right into his confusion-clouded grey eyes. They cleared slightly with my short explanation. "If you go back as a spy, you first have to deal with your punishment for ruining their plan to infiltrate the school."

Instead of the reaction of fear I'd been expecting, Malfoy only shrugged. "I weighed all the possible outcomes before I destroyed the cabinet. I was aware that punishment was a very real possibility."

Never again was I going to believe someone when I heard them say that Malfoy was a coward. Selfish, maybe, but to destroy the cabinet knowing there was a good chance he'd have to face Voldemort for his failure was one of the bravest things I'd ever heard – or possibly the most insane and suicidal.

I was just contemplating telling him so, risk of inflating his ego further be damned, when the door burst open and Harry stumbled inside. He was always acting like he had every right to barge into Dumbledore's office, and this time he'd seen something he shouldn't have.

"Professor, I've found-" he broke off midsentence, staring at me with a look of betrayal and anger. More specifically, he was staring at my hand, where it still rested on Malfoy's arm.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**A/N: You guys are sharp. I didn't mean for it to seem as if Harry was going to take the credit for finding the diadem, he was just excited that he had the thing and not thinking about his words. I'm sure he would have told Dumbledore the whole story after handing over the diadem.**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Also thanks to irianaceleste for betaing!**

**~Frosty**

I immediately whipped my hand away from Malfoy as if he'd suddenly burned me, but it was too late, the damage had been done. It didn't help that Ron had already planted the seeds of doubt in Harry's mind, paving the way for what was sure to be an impressive explosion now that he'd caught me in an even slightly compromising position.

While slower-burning than Ron's, Harry had quite the temper sometimes. It usually revealed itself when he'd been left out of something. As much as he hated being "the Chosen One", Harry hated being left out of the action even more, and I had left him in the dark about my interactions with Malfoy.

"_Hermione_?" Harry asked. "What- what's..._how_?"

It was nice to see he was getting better at expressing himself verbally. A few years ago, he probably would have only been able to sputter a few garbled sounds at me. In a few years, he might manage a whole sentence!

"You know, Potter," Malfoy drawled, "I know you haven't had the most refined upbringing, but there's these things called _doors _that are used by civilized people to _keep out unwanted visitors_."

I sighed. Apparently we weren't going to have a mature discussion void of insults. I shot a glare at Malfoy for making the situation so much worse. While he did see my dark look, he just gave me a little smirk. The git was making the situation worse intentionally!

Surprisingly, Harry ignored the jibe and kept his eyes, dark with betrayal, focused on me, "Hermione, what's going on here?"

Telling Harry the entire story would probably constitute a betrayal of Malfoy, and I wasn't willing to risk the consequences. I shot a glance towards the blond asking with my eyes if it would be okay to tell Harry at least _some _of the story.

Malfoy's raised eyebrow and slight shake of his head clearly said: "_Are you an idiot? Potter would never believe the truth!"_

With my expression, I tried to answer "_well you're an idiot for antagonising him at the worst possible moment_!" I don't think I managed it, but I could always scold him about it later.

Helplessly, I turned back to Harry, unsure what I was going to tell him.

He read my turmoil on my face. "You're really going to keep Malfoy's secrets instead of telling me, your best friend, what's going on?"

"Now, Harry," Dumbledore said, "Have you not considered that perhaps your friend has loyalties beyond you?"

It took the old man long enough to intervene! For someone who seemed to know everything, he didn't seem very skilled at handling Harry's temper.

"She's working for _Voldemort_?" Harry sputtered disbelievingly.

Lovely. It was great to know that he had so much faith in me, really touching. I glared at my idiot friend, hoping to let him know that he was being mental.

Apparently Malfoy decided that a glare just wasn't enough. "Potter, you're more stupid that even I thought. What could _possibly _make Granger change sides and work with someone who wants her dead?"

I never would have thought I'd see Harry look chastised after something Malfoy has said, but he did. Thank Merlin he'd realized how stupid his accusation had been.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, "If you could just wait outside for a moment, I'll get to you shortly."

Obediently, but not without several backwards glances, Harry stalked out the door.

As soon as it was closed behind him, Dumbledore asked, "Where were we?"

"He's probably listening at the door," I said worriedly. Harry wasn't going to just wait out there while there was a conversation happening in here that he dearly wanted to hear. He was a snooper by nature.

"Don't worry, Miss Granger, there are very powerful anti-eavesdropping spells on my office. Even if Harry was using some of those delightful extendable ears to try and listen, the only thing he'd hear would be static. I imagine that will make him rather frustrated out there," Dumbledore finished with a chuckle.

Glancing back, I caught the telltale crescent of peach sticking out under the door. Poor Harry was probably getting increasingly frustrated as he tried to get the gadget working properly against all the privacy spells Dumbledore had on his office.

"Now, I believe we were discussing Mr. Malfoy's options," said Dumbledore. His eyes were twinkling again.

"I'd be willing to spy if that's what you require of me," Malfoy said.

Something in my stomach twisted unpleasantly. There was no way Dumbledore was just going to let him do this... was there?

To my horror, Dumbledore was nodding along. "That's very brave of you, Draco, but I think you need to take some time to consider this carefully before you make a choice. We have safe houses where you could stay should you choose to desert Voldemort instead of becoming a turncoat."

Malfoy looked ready to object, but Dumbledore raised a hand. "You need to carefully consider _everything _before you make your choice." For some reason, he cast a pointed look in my direction with this statement. "Now, would you two mind telling Harry to come in as you leave?"

Clearly dismissed, we left the office, not looking at each other.

Harry was perched on the landing, looking depressed. I could only assume it was because he'd been denied the chance to eavesdrop. As mature as he could be some of the time, he was still an angsty teenage boy with a lot of growing up to do.

When we exited, Harry didn't wait for Dumbledore's invitation. He pushed past us and entered the office, pointedly avoiding even glancing in my direction. Okay, that had hurt a little. I wasn't looking forward to dealing with the looks of betrayal he was probably going to be shooting at me for the next few weeks.

A chuckle at my side brought my attention back to the blond keeping pace with me.

I rounded on Malfoy. "You think this is funny?"

I couldn't yell at him about choosing to be a spy in the corridors, but I _could _scold him for other, more minor things that were weighing on me.

"You could have been a little nicer to Harry in there," I snapped.

He looked taken aback for a moment before he gathered himself to respond. "Coddling Potter was not part of the job description. If it is, I think I need to rethink my choice."

I felt like tugging my hair in frustration, but Malfoy would probably only make a comment about making the frizz worse, so I restrained myself. Instead, I continued trying to make him understand.

"You have caused _nothing _but trouble between my friends and me since the very beginning of this... whatever this is. Everything would run smoother if you could just restrain yourself from _antagonizing _them at every turn."

He rolled his eyes. "The Golden Trio's trust issues are _hardly _any of my concern."

"Maybe not, but they're mine." And I _really _wasn't looking forward to facing them.

* * *

Dumbledore must have extracted some sort of promise of silence out of Harry, because Ron wouldn't have been able to keep quiet about what Harry had seen taking place in Dumbledore's office if he'd known. I was both glad and a little disappointed in this turn of events.

Had Dumbledore allowed Harry to tell, I may have been permitted to let my two friends know that Malfoy wasn't as bad as they thought.

As it was, Harry had been ignoring me since morning, and Ron, taking his cues from Harry, was ignoring me as well. Their trust had already been strained with the repeated instances between Malfoy and I, and they weren't likely to forgive and forget out of the kindness of their hearts anytime soon.

Feeling unwelcome in the Gryffindor common room, I slunk out at the first possible chance and retreated to the Room of Requirement. It was actually a relief to get out from under the pressure of their stares. They thought they could make me crack, but all they were doing was putting me in a foul mood.

I wasn't surprised to find Malfoy there, staring moodily at the blackened remains to the vanishing cabinet.

"Regretting your decision?" I asked, coming to sit beside him on the pile of shredded pillows.

He jolted slightly when I spoke, probably having been so deep in thought that he hadn't heard me enter.

"No, it needed to be destroyed. Death Eaters have no place in Hogwarts."

Glancing down at his left arm, I raised an eyebrow.

"Not me," he said impatiently, "the _murderous _Death Eaters."

His eyes darkened at the mention of murder and Death Eaters in the same sentence. I could only assume that it was because of his recent experiences.

It continued to baffle me the way my perceptions of Malfoy were in a constant state of flux. One minute he was the boy with whom I shared a secret, yet hated; the next minute I was so concerned for his well-being that I was willing to risk the lives he could have saved working as a spy in order to ensure his safety. I was supposed to put the greater good above everything, was I not?

My confusion was only bolstered by his changing loyalties and moods. He had just verbally distanced himself from the other Death Eaters, something that I wouldn't have thought possible not so long ago. Sure, I'd known he wasn't truly bad, but I also knew from observation that he was loyal to those he truly cared for. I suppose that loyalty to his father would have been considerably weakened by what he'd had to watch happen to his mother.

"I'm sorry about what happened to your mum," I said with more than a little discomfort.

Malfoy tensed and darted glances at me out of the corners of his eyes, but he didn't start yelling, so we'd made some progress.

He let out a huge, breathy sigh and tilted his head back to rest against the fluff mountain.

Somehow, I was getting the feeling that he hadn't mourned her properly yet. Despite what I may have thought of her, Malfoy must have loved the woman who had given him life.

"There was nothing I could have done for her," he said quietly. "Not that I need your pity, Granger." That last part was added as an afterthought without any real heat.

I shifted slightly and he was quick to whip his head around and shoot me a glare. "If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I'll personally switch your brain with Weasley's. You'll take an hour to complete a simple Arithmancy problem."

Through sheer force of will, I managed to repress the shudder that wanted to shake itself free from deep within me. Ron is a good friend, but it would kill me to have his mind in my head; my thought processing power alone would be cut in half. Malfoy had threats down to an art form.

Malfoy must have read my expression as some of my internal horror slipped onto my face; his lips tilted up into a very tiny grin. "I knew there was no way you had any respect for Weaselbee's intelligence."

Half-heartedly, I glared. I knew he was just insulting Ron so he didn't have to think about the death of his mother. Merlin forbid he show an emotion.

Very well. If this was his way of keeping himself whole, then I would indulge him. He'd been in the room first, so technically I was probably interrupting his thoughts. I planned on taking my deal to be his friend seriously.

"I don't think you should be pointing fingers about other people's idiot friends. I've met posts smarter than Crabbe and Goyle combined," I returned, almost playfully. I was _teasing _Malfoy, and it was disturbing me to no end – but in a good way.

"It's not a competition," he muttered. I was pleased to see that his tone was lighter than I was used to from him. That dark look was gone from his eyes.

"It was when you were winning."

He snorted disbelievingly, but didn't say anything further. We settled in a companionable silence, both lost in our own thoughts.

The twisted and ruined remains of the vanishing cabinet caught my attention. It suddenly occurred to me that here, away from the prying eyes of our schoolmates, I was free to give him a piece of my mind with the things that were _actually _on my mind.

"Killing yourself trying to be a spy isn't the way to avenge your mum," I said hesitantly. I wasn't sure if bringing this up again was going to make him lash out at me.

"We're not having this discussion, Granger."

Mulishly, I raised my chin and glared at him. "I'm just saying that I don't think you should risk yourself pointlessly."

"Says the Gryffindor," he scoffed. "Don't think Father didn't tell me about what happened at the Department of Mysteries."

"That was different," I snapped.

He raised his eyebrows, silently asking me how the hell it was different.

"I survived that; you most likely won't survive spying," I said.

"So you're actually worried about me? I'm touched, Granger."

I flushed. "It's not _you _I'm worried about, I just don't want Bryn to have to die before getting old _again_."

"Granger," he drawled in an overly-patient voice, like I was stupid and having difficulty retaining information, "You realize that Bryn and I are the same person, just as you and Lisette are?"

"Just don't become a spy," I snapped. He was right, but I liked to think of them as two separate people.

He sighed. "Don't worry so much about it. We found each other after death once, it'll happen again."

I opened my mouth to try to talk him out of being a spy once more, but no sound came out. The little smirk on Malfoy's face told me that the git had wordlessly silenced me. I huffed and shot a nasty glare at him, but he was too busy being smug to notice my ire.

* * *

"After taking into consideration everything that Miss Granger has told me, I can't in good conscience allow you to continuously endanger yourself," Dumbledore said.

We were back in his office for the second time in as many days, Malfoy having decided to disregard my warnings and become a spy. The stubborn refusal to listen to the things I suggested was all Bryn. The more I got to know Malfoy, the more I could see bits of Bryn in him. Malfoy's past incarnation was morphing into more of a real person to me, less of an ideal. Everything I'd known about Bryn was true, but he'd had his faults as well, faults Malfoy seemed to share.

"So you're just going to hide me away? Those bastards killed my mother and I want a hand in taking them down!" Malfoy yelled, spots of red appearing on his cheeks and his eyes over bright.

Anger. At least he was exhibiting some of the stages of grief. I wasn't sure if his extreme thirst for vengeance was technically healthy, but it was probably better than keeping everything bottled up inside. He needed an outlet or he was going to explode from all the emotional build-up.

"No, we're going to ask you to spy until it becomes too dangerous for you," Dumbledore said. "When Voldemort starts getting antsy about your lack of progress on the Vanishing Cabinet or calls you to a revel - that is when we will send you off to a safe house."

Malfoy seemed appeased. Realizing he had leant forward in his seat, I watched as he settled against the backrest of his chair once more, his Malfoy facade of control once again in place. Only his eyes and the little colour remaining in his cheeks betrayed his true emotions.

"Mr. Malfoy, are you forgetting to tell me something?" Dumbledore asked.

Malfoy and I shared a look of confusion, but mine quickly cleared. Thudding feet, sharp teeth, living shadow and stark terror flickered across my mind. I think I had an idea what Malfoy was forgetting. I couldn't believe that I'd forgotten about them for even a moment. The memory of my near-brush with death wasn't something I would have expected to fade, but there had just been so many things going on with me of late.

Malfoy must have met the same conclusion as me, because he spoke. "There are shadow wolves surrounding the school. They're here to test the wards protecting Hogwarts, but they're also here as a threat to me. If the wards fail and they break into the school before I kill you," he looked apologetically at the Headmaster, but the old man was unsurprised and unconcerned, "it counts as a failure at my task and I'm killed for it."

"And is there any way to fight against these creatures?" Dumbledore asked innocently. He must have known that Malfoy knew how to be rid of the terrible creatures; Dumbledore was never that innocent-looking. He knew too much about everything and everyone's business to ever be able to pass himself off as innocent.

Malfoy explained the spell and demonstrated the movements for the Headmaster. I tried to memorize them for myself, but I had a feeling that should I come across the shadow wolves again, I'd freeze in terror like I had before. It was embarrassing, but I couldn't help myself.

"Is there any particular reason you know how to stop these creatures?" Dumbledore asked.

Malfoy sneered, but it was at a memory more than anyone in the room. "They surround the Manor, terrorizing the Death Eaters when they don't have anything better to do. We all had to learn how to protect ourselves from them or we died."

I tried not to shudder at the terrible picture he'd painted. We were at war. I was going to have to toughen up if I was going to survive.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**A/N: Hello readers! Thanks to all the wonderful people who took the time to review! I always love hearing from you guys.**

**Thanks to Irianaceleste for betaing!**

**~Frosty**

The next few weeks passed in a blur of time spent in the library hiding from my friends who were still acting like I'd betrayed them while researching Horcruxes. I figured that I might as well get something productive done while I avoided them.

So far I hadn't found much on Horcruxes, and I was starting to suspect that was because there wasn't much to be found. The only other possibility was that there was something wrong with my researching skills, which was ridiculous. I refused to think, even for a second, that something could be wrong with my researching skills. They hadn't failed me yet.

"Do you dance?" Malfoy asked me, plopping down onto the chair across from me.

I looked up from my book, startled. Immediately, I darted a quick glance around the room to check if anyone had noticed his near cordial greeting, but it was late and we were the only ones in the library. Even Madame Pince had left for the evening after extracting a promise from me to lock up when I finished with my reading. She knew how difficult it was to pry me from the books once I really got into research mode.

"Huh?" I said, ever so articulately. I was usually more eloquent, but the simple words coming out of Malfoy's mouth just didn't make sense to me.

"Do you dance?" he asked again. His expression clearly said that he thought I was exceptionally slow for needing a repetition.

I sighed and marked my place in my book. It had been almost a week since I'd seen Malfoy. We hadn't spoken since that whole incident in Dumbledore's office. I suppose I was overdue for providing the companionship he'd craved enough to abandon all his beliefs – well, revenge for his mother's murder was a heavy factor too, but that wasn't the point. He wasn't harassing me in the library because he wanted revenge; my bet was that he was feeling in need of a friend and I was his only option.

"What do you mean?" I enquired, keeping my voice polite. There, that was friendly, right? I hadn't snapped at him a little bit even though I would have dearly like to because he wasn't making any sense.

"I'm starting to forget the tiny details about Lisette, but I know that she danced beautifully." He sounded so sad that he couldn't remember minute details about something that had literally happened a lifetime ago.

Now that he mentioned it though, I'd found myself forgetting things about Bryn as well. Just yesterday I'd been struggling to remember the exact shade of Bryn's eyes. I hadn't been able to, only Malfoy's had come to mind.

Instead of sharing that I'd been forgetting small details as well, I answered his question.

"I'm not the most graceful person in the world, I've never been very good at dancing," I admitted. While I'd managed to move with some semblance of coordination at the Yule Ball in fourth year, it had been mostly thanks to Krum and his surprising skill at leading.

"Nonsense," he scoffed. "Everyone's good at dancing; they just need the right partner." He stood from the table, stalked around it, and determinedly offered me his hand. Somehow I got the impression that he wasn't likely to take no for an answer.

"What if someone sees?" I asked, remembering Harry's reaction to my innocent hand on Malfoy's arm. If they were still punishing me for something so insignificant, then they were going to crucify me should they ever catch me_dancing_with Malfoy.

"Come on, who's going to see us? We're alone in here. Live a little, we're probably going to die soon so you want to cram as much living in as possible," he cajoled.

Since I couldn't think of any pressing reasons to refuse him, I accepted the hand, half expecting him to sneer and tell me I was an idiot for ever thinking he'd willingly touch me.

His grip was warm and smooth in mine; there were definite calluses on his hand, but they weren't those of someone who earned his living with labour like Bryn's had been. I remained tense until his other hand slid down to my back and pressed gently. Something about our positions brought to mind a spring day full of laughter and happiness. The last time we'd danced together, it had been all joy and smiles. Even just the echo of a memory that I had was enough to make me relax in Malfoy's hold. He had a different packaging now, as did I, but he was still the man who had once been my entire world.

It terrified me whenever I wondered if our past meant he held the potential to become my everything for a second time. Even more terrifying was the tiny, niggling feeling that I would like a chance at something so powerful once more whether it was with Malfoy or not.

Malfoy led me in a simple box step, keeping time to a song that neither of us could hear, but both of us remembered well.

I felt a familiar safety and warmth with him that I wasn't willing to acknowledge. Those were things I'd felt with Bryn in the past, not things I should be feeling for Malfoy in the present. Malfoy wasn't warm or safe.

"What's brought this on?" I asked to distract myself both from my disturbing thoughts and from the movement of my feet. I didn't want to anger him by stepping all over his feet. As much fun as riling him was, dancing was just as appealing for some reason.

"I've found myself consumed by nostalgia. Do you remember how much we used to enjoy dancing?"

I didn't let myself linger on questioning whether nostalgia applied to past lives. It probably did, but that wasn't the normal use of the term.

A nod was my only answer to his question. Talking about the past made everything so much more real. I wasn't ready for that.

I was pulled so close to him that Malfoy was all I could smell. If he was wearing any cologne, it was a very subtle one, so the smell was all him. Fresh air and wind, leather, broom polish, and a hint of sweat. He must have been flying right before he came to see me.

As I was preoccupied with identifying every nuance of his scent, he had started humming along to the tune we both knew so well. He was dangerously close to happy. Since when was Malfoy someone who hummed?

"What's got you in such a good mood?" I asked, not really expecting an answer.

There was a pause as he seemed to debate whether telling me the truth was a good idea. I could tell the moment he decided that I should know the truth because he smirked at me. I probably wasn't going to like his answer.

"While repulsive in almost every way, Pansy does have her uses."

Oh, _ew._ Not something I wanted to know. I could feel a blush darkening my cheeks and ducked my head slightly so he couldn't see it. I had a feeling he knew anyway and was amused.

I tried to pull away from him in horror, but he tightened his hold to keep me there. After a moment, I fell back into the familiar patterns of the dance.

"How can you stand her?"

"Alcohol helps," he said, "I'm not sure I'd be able to stand her long enough to shag her if I wasn't half-drunk for most of our encounters."

My question had been more rhetorical than anything. I hadn't actually expected an answer. I had half though that he was going to tell me to shut up and be done with the question. Actually, I'd been kind of hoping that would happen, the conversation was starting to make me uncomfortable. Thinking of Malfoy in a sexual context was doing weird things to my stomach.

To be honest, I was kind of curious now. I supposed I could continue asking questions as long as I kept my mind firmly away from Malfoy naked.

"If she's so horrible, then why even bother?"

Parkinson was one of the most unpleasant people I'd ever met, and I'd personally duelled Death Eaters. Murderous men in black cloaks and masks with the intent to kill me weren't even close to Parkinson and her shrill voice.

He chuckled without malice, another thing I wasn't used to. The sound was nice, but it didn't help that pesky fluttering of my stomach.

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked with amusement in his voice. "Sex. She's easy and always available."

I knew I was blushing even darker than before; I could feel it in the burning that had spread across my face and bled down my neck.

Malfoy chuckled at me some more, having most likely intended to embarrass me with his words. My sudden stiff posture probably gave me away even if my tomato-coloured face didn't.

"Not everything's about sex, Malfoy," I said, my voice slightly higher than before. It was so annoying that I couldn't hide my embarrassment and continue a conversation right through it. Sometimes I managed to push it aside, but Malfoy always brought it to the forefront.

"Oh, _please_," Malfoy scoffed. "_Everything's _about sex. All life has a preoccupation with reproduction, and humans are no different than any other animal."

Wow, that was so romantic. So he believed in shagging as a tension reliever and biological need, nothing deeper.

"What about love?" I asked.

"What do I know about love?" he responded, his voice slightly bitter.

"Love is from the soul," I told him immediately, "and I know for a fact that yours is capable of holding so much of it."

He chuckled again but it was a dark, bitter sound this time, void of amusement. "My soul's been a tad twisted since you knew me last lifetime."

I tilted my chin to look up at him. How was it possible for him to look so vulnerable and angry at the same time?

Needing to do something to make the expression of his go away, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him on his cheek. "You're not as bad as you like to think you are. You're just as capable of love as anyone else."

He stumbled in his dancing and we came to a stop, me embarrassed and him unreadable. Maybe I shouldn't have tried to show him affection, I'd been unconsciously treating him the way Lisette would have treated a distraught Bryn, and it wasn't going to work this incarnation.

When he remained silent and tense, I sighed and pulled myself from his grasp. "Yes, yes. I'm disgusting. Get my filthy hands off of you and such," I said, waving a hand dismissively.

I refused to let him see that I was a little hurt by his aversion to my blood. It had been fine while we were enemies but we were... something else now – or at least I'd thought so.

Quickly, I gathered my books and left the library, ignoring him when he finally unfroze and called after me.

* * *

"Why's Malfoy giving you that strange look?" Harry asked in Transfiguration a few days later.

I turned slightly and raised my eyebrows at him. "You're talking to me again?"

Harry looked contrite. "I may have overreacted slightly, and I'm sorry for believing Ron and his fabricated nonsense without letting you explain yourself first."

I had just started to smile when he spoke again. "Now why's Malfoy looking at you like that?"

He better not be talking to me again because he wasn't able to figure out what was going on with Malfoy. If that was the case, Voldemort was going to be the least of Harry's worries. I tried to convey this to Harry with a stern look, but something was probably lost in translation.

I tilted my head to the side so that I could see Malfoy out of the corner of my eyes. I didn't want to be obvious about examining his expression.

While I'd been avoiding my friends and their disapproving looks, Malfoy, in turn, had been avoiding me like the plague.

Once I'd recovered from my embarrassment after kissing him, I'd tried to approach him and apologise for being so forward, but he'd proven himself to be a true Slytherin: slippery as a snake and impossible to corner.

When my eyes landed on the blond, his head was just turning away from me, making me think that he'd probably been looking at me. I stared at him a moment to see if he'd turn to face me again, but his eyes stayed resolutely focused on what must have been a fascinating stretch of wall for it to hold his attention for so long.

Whatever Malfoy's issue was, I knew for certain that it was none of Harry's business.

"Look, Harry," I sighed, "If something's going on with Malfoy, I can assure you that it's none of your concern. Whatever he's up to, let him handle it."

Harry glanced around shiftily to make sure no one was listening. "What if he's here doing something for Voldemort?"

I understood that Harry and Malfoy had a certain rivalry thing going on, but that hardly meant that Malfoy was out to get everyone out of spite. While Harry was understanding most of the time, he had trouble changing his impression of a person once he'd developed one. Malfoy hadn't been the kindest child and now Harry refused to believe that the blond wasn't working for Voldemort.

"Just this once, take my word for it and accept that Malfoy isn't a danger," I hissed, not wanting anyone to hear what I was saying. Convincing Harry would have been so much easier if I could have just told him the truth, but the Vow prevented the easy way.

Harry leaned down in his chair and hunched his shoulders, sulking. At least he wasn't going to press me for answers I couldn't give.

I rolled my eyes. Boys.

I had just tuned back into the lecture and resumed taking notes when my quill started fighting me. Writing implements –even those in the magical world- weren't supposed to do that.

I scowled at the rogue quill. It seemed I wasn't going to get _any _work done. If I failed Transfiguration there would be hell to pay. Voldemort was going to be the first on my list. Almost all of my problems could be indirectly traced back to him.

Sighing enough to ruffle the delicate, feathery tendrils of my quill, I released my hold on it, allowing it to write what it wanted. Since it obviously had a message for me.

_I need to talk to you after class._

_DM_

I shot a look over at the blond, but he was staring at his notes intently. It only took me a moment to figure out the clever little spell he'd used. I was actually a little impressed – something that I would never share with him. It wasn't every day that someone showed me a spell I'd never heard of before.

_So now you're talking to me again? Fine, meet me in the Room of Requirement._

_Now if you interrupt my note-taking one more time, I'll see to it that you'll never be able to touch your wand again – in more than one sense._

_HG_

I heard a snort from the other side of the room and made sure to keep my eyes on my paper. It wouldn't do for someone to figure out we were sending each other notes. Malfoy would be in danger if word got back to Voldemort and I just didn't want to have another fight with my friends.

Harry was giving me a few suspicious looks, so I covered my notes and paid attention once more. McGonagall would be so disappointed in me if she knew how little attention I'd been paying to her lesson.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**A/N: Hello readers! Sorry this took a while, but I've been busy.**

**Anyway, huge thanks to Irianaceleste for betains (and reminding me to edit a chapter so I can send it to her). You guys would have had to wait longer if she hadn't reminded me.**

**Also thanks to all the wonderful people who review!**

**~Frosty**

Harry watched me closely all through Transfiguration, even afterwards as I packed my things and hurried out of the room. His vigilance made it difficult for me to slip away after class ended, but I managed. Harry would undoubtedly question me about my disappearance later, but I had more important things than his feelings on my mind. His trust issues weren't my problem anyway.

Evading Harry had taken me a little extra time, so Malfoy was already in the Room of Requirement when I entered. Looking lost, he was sitting on the pile of shredded pillows again. It was strange to see him so completely directionless and without any bite in his eyes. The silver orbs were unfocused and almost vacant.

"What did you want?" I asked. My words weren't the most polite, but there was no harshness in my voice.

He glanced over at me and the lost look lessened. I wasn't sure if it was because he felt less lost around me or if he was just schooling his expression because I was there. I liked to think it was the former and I was doing a decent job of being there for him.

Either way, I wasn't going to let my attitude towards him soften just because he'd looked a little distraught. There was a good chance it was just a ploy so that I wouldn't be upset with him over his avoidance of me.

"I've been summoned," he said hollowly.

_Oh. _That was worse than anything I had imagined. Without thought, I knew that Malfoy wouldn't use something so serious for an ulterior motive.

Zombie-like, I walked over and collapsed down beside him on the fluffy mountain. My eyes shifted over to the blacked wreckage that had once been the vanishing cabinet. Somehow I doubted that Voldemort was going to accept that a freak explosion had engulfed the cabinet, leaving the rest of the room perfectly intact – Malfoy being free of blame for the entire incident, of course.

"You're not going," I said, a twist of worry squirming in my stomach at the mere idea.

Malfoy glanced over at me and raised an eyebrow. "I thought we were past this. I've agreed to do everything I can to take those bastards down, and if that includes a little pain, then so be it."

"While I admire your determination, suicide isn't going to do anything for the cause," I said, trying to reason with him. "Think about it; what can you possibly learn in the most likely short time before he tortures you that Snape won't learn without any difficulty?"

His eyes flared in surprise at my words and I winced. I had just assumed that he'd already known about Snape's true allegiance. I suppose it's true what they say about what happens when you assume... Ugh. I was horrible at the whole spy thing. I only hoped the mistakes I was sure to make wouldn't be the death of someone.

"Snape's a turncoat?" Malfoy asked.

I sighed. "You're going to have to ask him about that. My point was that going there and getting yourself killed isn't going to accomplish anything. You can't avenge your mother if you're dead."

"There's actually a pretty good chance he'll only torture me," he tried to reason. "The Dark Lord's one sadistic bastard; killing me immediately would be too quick. He'd probably send me back to Hogwarts after a thorough torture session with orders to find some other way to let the Death Eaters in and to hurry up with my mission to murder Dumbledore."

I winced at the horrible picture he'd painted. Who in the world would willingly support someone so horrible? I just couldn't fathom it. With someone as insane as Voldemort, it was only ever a matter of time before he turned on his own followers.

"If that's the case, there's no reason for you to go through that," I said. "Besides, I refuse to patch you up even one more time."

If I ever saw him as abused as he'd been not so long ago when he'd come back after seeing Voldemort, it would be too soon.

He gave me a small smirk, probably too shaken for a proper one. "If I didn't know better, Granger, I'd think you were concerned about my wellbeing."

I was, but admitting this would take our conversation in a direction I didn't want it to travel. It was probably his plan that I start sputtering denials and completely forget about convincing him to stay as far from Voldemort as possible.

He didn't give me enough credit.

"No," I said, "I'm just tired of washing your blood off of my cloths and hands. Scraping it out from under my finger nails took me forever last time." Trailing off, I shuddered. My nonchalance had failed, making me remember too vividly those times when I'd had to mop up disturbing amounts of his blood.

Malfoy, watching me, probably didn't miss a moment of my distress.

He stood from the pile of pillows with a sigh, his lips twisted into a sneer of distaste. "I suppose I'd better be off to see that doddering old fool then."

My heart, which had stopped at the suggestion that he leave, started beating again when I realized that he wasn't going to face Voldemort. It seemed that I cared a little more about his wellbeing than even I had thought. I tried to shove that feeling aside, not wanting him to read it on my face.

"If I wait here, will you come back and tell me what he says?" I asked hesitantly, not looking directly at him. I waited, braced for his mocking laughter, but it never came.

When I snuck a peek at him, there was a hint of understanding in his eyes. He gave a curt nod, "I shouldn't be too long."

I leaned back in the pillows to wait, listening to the door closing with a sense of dread. What if Malfoy never came back from the meeting with Dumbledore? If they both decided that it would be better for Malfoy to see what he could learn from Voldemort? Or if Malfoy, fuelled by his desire for revenge, never even bothered going to Dumbledore's office and went straight to death at the hands of the Dark Lord and had just been lying to me so I'd let him go?

No, Malfoy had done what he'd said and gone to see Dumbledore. He had no real reason to lie to me about it. I reminded myself to have some faith in him just as I was always nagging Harry to have for me.

Despite the frantic circles my mind was turning, the softness of the pillows and the early start I'd had that morning began to make my eyelids heavy. When I'd been running about throughout the day, worrying about taking notes and acting as referee for Harry's insane suspicions while fending off Malfoy's notes and odd stares, I had been fine, but now the waiting was pushing me towards the rest my body needed.

* * *

With a hitched breath, I opened my eyes, stretching my arms above my head. My mouth felt coated with something foul and all my limbs felt heavier than they should. This is why I didn't nap; they always left me feeling horrible and even more tired than I'd been before I'd fallen asleep.

"I'm being sent to a safe house," said a voice from behind me.

I jumped, managing to launch myself from the pillow mountain and onto the floor in an ungraceful heap.

Malfoy laughed.

"Prat," I muttered, glaring up at him.

To my surprise, he was standing over me, holding out a hand to help me to my feet.

As he pulled me up, it finally occurred to me what he had said. "They're sending you away?"

I found that I was actually a little disappointed that he wouldn't be at the school anymore. Logically, I knew that he was leaving to be safe, but I was actually going to miss his presence. Somehow I'd become used to having him around, making snarky remarks and inciting Ron and Harry with barrages of verbal barbs. It would be weird without him – more peaceful, but weird.

"What's wrong, Granger, going to miss me?" he asked with a smirk. That lost look he'd worn when I'd first entered the room was long gone, and he was looking much more like his usual mocking self.

This back-and-forth was familiar ground.

"I'm just wondering what I'm going to do now that I don't have to keep your sorry butt out of the Hospital Wing."

He raised an eyebrow and drew himself up to his full height, a spark of challenge in his eyes. "I seem to remember a time when it was _me _rescuing _your _sorry butt from a pack of wolves."

That he had, and I was grateful for it. Reaching out, I took his hand and squeezed it. "Be careful, there are people on both sides of this war that want you dead."

His teasing expression faded as he squeezed my hand back. "You be careful as well. I don't want to hear that I wasted that effort saving you just to have you die at the hands of some Death Eater."

I nodded, fighting off tears as I released his hand.

* * *

"Where's Malfoy?" Harry wondered at breakfast the next morning.

I didn't look up from the muffin on my plate that I had been shredding for the last several minutes. Not a single bite had yet to pass my lips, I just wasn't hungry. Harry was idly wondering, not asking me a question, so I didn't feel obligate to answer. Instead, I tore off another large chunk of muffin and poked at it until it was only crumbs. In all honestly, I was trying not to think of the blond. Something strange was going on between us; he hadn't said it, but I was pretty sure he was going to miss me too. We weren't supposed to miss each other. We weren't even supposed to _like _each other.

I made a noncommittal noise so that Harry knew I was listening.

Ron, seating on the other side of Harry, chose then to give his input. "Maybe he's left school to join You-Know-Who."

Rolling my eyes, I ripped off another chunk of the muffin, resisting the urge to throw it at Ron. I had to remind myself that it wasn't entirely his fault he was biased; he didn't have my knowledge of Malfoy to give him my perspective. However, I _had _asked them to trust me about Malfoy, and while Ron had no reason to trust Malfoy, he should have trusted me.

When Harry turned towards Ron and started discussing what Malfoy could be doing that very moment, I squashed the rest of the muffin on my plate with my fist and then left the Great Hall.

* * *

The second night after Malfoy left, I had horrible nightmares. Flashes of our deaths in our past lives and visions of him in this life, suffering a horrible death. Instead of lessening as time passed, the dreams only intensified.

My grades started to slip as I lost more and more sleep and eventually resorted to taking dreamless sleep potions to get the rest I needed in order to function. It was horrible and I became a basket case from sleep deprivation and stress.

On the day after the year end exams were finished, I went to see Dumbledore. He'd been away almost constantly since that night with Malfoy in the Room of Requirement , and I hadn't wanted to risk my grades with grieving on the off chance that Malfoy had died. I somehow knew that I'd be a wreck. Not necessarily for the loss of Malfoy – though that would be tragic – but for the loss of Bryn's soul. His soul had once been the other half of mine, and a part of me suspected that it still was.

I guessed random sweets until the gargoyle admitted me to the Headmaster's office.

"What can I do for you, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked. His eyes were still sparkling as always, but his cheeks were more drawn than I remembered. I'd always known he was old; although, he'd never really seemed it. Now he did. Every one of his many years seemed to be weighing on him heavily.

I faltered, feeling stupid about my worries when faced with Dumbledore and his much more pressing concerns.

"You're here wondering about the wellbeing of Mr. Malfoy," he said. It wasn't a question.

Blushing, I nodded. "I've been having these bad dreams," I muttered.

"Well, to my knowledge, he's doing perfectly fine at the safe house."

My face twisted in an anxious expression. I wasn't happy with the words "to my knowledge," they weren't nearly sure enough to satisfy my concerned mind.

"But you'll know for yourself firsthand as soon as school lets out," he continued.

What? What was he talking about?

"The Order has decided that Harry will be safest hidden away over the summer. Of course, arrangements have been made for you and Mr. Weasley to join him." He paused for a moment. "I fear that if you are not present, we may have a murder on our hands by the end of the summer since Mr. Malfoy will be in the same safe house."

While relieved that I was going to be able to see for myself that Malfoy was okay in jest a few short days, I was already dreading a summer spent with three boys who rarely got along. It was sure to be an interesting summer, that was for sure.

* * *

Trunk packed and trailing magically behind me, I approached the two story house that perched on a cliff over the ocean in the middle of nowhere. It looked homey and surprisingly welcoming. As the salty wind whipped up my hair, I glanced towards Harry and Ron, trailing behind Dumbledore and me and shooting suspicious looks in my direction. They knew that I knew something they didn't, but not what it was.

They definitely didn't even suspect that Malfoy was going to be inside the safe house, and I wasn't sure they were ever going to forgive me once they saw him. I sighed, dreading the confrontation.

Dumbledore went in first, knocking before he opened the rickety door.

"Why are you knocking, Professor?" Harry asked. "Is someone here already?"

The smell of burning whooshed out of the house in a cloud of black smoke, distracting me from Harry's questions. I didn't hear Dumbledore's answer as I rushed inside with my wand drawn, ready for anything.

I expected to see Death Eaters torturing Malfoy, possibly a fire consuming the house. What I didn't expect was to burst into the kitchen, ready to find something horrible, and all I found was Malfoy, wearing an apron and standing over the stove while it spewed out clouds of black smoke.

Mouth open, I stared for a moment in shock until I realized that I should probably open a window before we both died from smoke inhalation.

"What are you doing here, Granger?" Malfoy asked once he had used his wand to put out the smouldering in the casserole dish where the fire had started.

Wonderful. Dumbledore had decided that he was going to surprise Malfoy with the presence of people he was going to hate as well. I was starting to think the old man was _trying _to make them kill each other, or possibly just make them all kill _me_.

"We're staying here for the summer," I muttered as I hesitantly approached him, my eyes fixed on the smoking, black mess in the pan. Whatever he'd been cooking looked like it was liable to burst into flame again with the slightest provocation.

Malfoy slid the dish behind him, away from my gaze. "_We_?"

I winced; I'd been hoping he wouldn't pick up on that. It had been a stupid hope, but hope is rarely a logical, intelligent thing.

Come to think of it, why hadn't Harry and Ron burst into the room, ready to fight off any bad that may have sprung up to threaten the world. Dumbledore must have been delaying them so I could break the news to Malfoy that he was going to be staying with his three most favourite Gryffindors, stuck in a safe house for the entire summer. The old man had me doing his dirty work!

"We?" Malfoy asked again when I hesitated.

"Me, Harry and Ron," I said, trying to cover the last two names with a fake cough.

"_What_?" Malfoy hissed.

I took a step back and raised my hands defensively. "This wasn't my decision, you're going to have to take up any concerns with Dumbledore, but I doubt anything will come of it. Harry certainly protested enough when he found out he was being sent to a safe house, and it hasn't changed the outcome."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Potter and Weasley don't know they're staying here with me yet, do they?"

Wide eyed, I shook my head. "Whatever you're planning, stop it. This summer is going to be difficult enough as it is."

Ignoring me, he brushed past me and pushed open the kitchen door.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I really appreciate it when you readers take the time to write one, they make me smile! Also thanks to irianaceleste for betaing!**

**Sorry this took a while. It's that time of year again... All the essays and exams and presentations are ganging up on me. There's so many of them and only one of me.**

**~Frosty**

When the shouting started on the other side of the kitchen door, I rushed out after Malfoy, hoping that Dumbledore would stop the other three from killing each other. He was the Headmaster; he had to stop fights, even off of school property, right? I certainly hoped so, a murder at the starting of our summer together just wasn't the most productive start to a period of forced cohabitation.

"What's _he _doing here?" Harry shouted as I came into the room. His wand was out and pointed at Malfoy. The situation was just what I had expected, Harry and Ron with their wands drawn, looking like they were waiting for any sudden movements so they could start hexing. Malfoy had his wand drawn as well, but he wasn't on alert like my friends. The wood dangled almost lazily from his fingers, mocking the angry stances of my friends. Despite his apparent un-readiness, I knew that Malfoy could strike like a viper should he need to.

Behind the cold sneer, I could tell that Malfoy was delighted about the confrontation. He had probably been probably bored out of his mind while staying in the house alone. It had always entertained him to torment my volatile friends. I'd just unwittingly brought him his favourite entertainment wrapped up in a big, shiny bow.

A summer with them was just looking more and more appealing.

"Now, children," Dumbledore said, summoning Malfoy, Harry and Ron's wands into his outstretched hand. "You're going to have to get along for the summer or your stay here will be immensely unpleasant."

All three of the boys started to protest, but Dumbledore cut them off. "I have to be back at the school now. I trust you all to get along," He paused, taking in the tension of the room and the borderline homicidal look on Ron's face. "I'm going to leave your wands with Miss Granger until she decides that you're not going to kill each other."

He handed the three wands to me and stepped outside where he was free of the wards and able to Disapparate.

Immediately, everyone in the room advanced on me, most likely intending to overpower me and get their wands back. Even Harry was so focused on his vendetta against Malfoy that he was advancing towards me menacingly just like the other two.

There was no way I was going to let them overpower me and steal their wands back just to kill each other. If we were going to be stuck together for the summer, I was _not _going to spend the entire time dodging the killing curse as they shot it at each other.

"Stay where you are!" I ordered, brandishing my wand.

They froze, but I didn't think they'd stay there for long without actually being stunned. They were a bunch of stubborn mules, the lot of them! So set on hexing each other into oblivion, they didn't even care that they would have to bowl over me to get their wands first.

"Hermione, stop being ridiculous. Just give us our wands back before Malfoy tries to kill us all in our sleep," Ron said, talking to me like I was a small child.

His attitude angered me more than his silent treatment or insults ever had. I wasn't a child and didn't appreciate being talked to as if I was one! I was at the top of our year despite all the chaos going on, for Merlin's sake!

With a decisive swish, I magically attached their wands to the ceiling. The only way they were going to get them down was with more magic, something they couldn't conjure without the very wands they would be trying to get. It was a rather neat solution if I did say so myself.

"You get your wands back when you start getting along," I said primly, slipping back into the kitchen. As an afterthought, I shot a repelling charm behind me, making sure none of them could get within punching distance of each other. I didn't want to have to spend the next few days healing broken bones and bruises.

With nothing better to do, I wandered over to the stove and poked at... whatever it was Malfoy had been cooking. I suspected the charred remains had once been chicken breasts before they went horribly, horribly wrong.

I brushed my hands against my pants, figuring that I might as well do something useful while I was avoiding everyone else in the house. Sighing, I went to the pantry to investigate how we were doing for supplies. I was betting that the shelves were spelled to magically restock themselves. It wasn't like we could just run off to the store if we ran out of food.

Malfoy banged the door open just as I was lining up the ingredients for baked chicken breasts –_proper _baked chicken breasts, not the cremated version Malfoy had made. I'd had to lower the oven's temperature by over 200 degrees – probably why Malfoy's chicken had ended up nearly incinerated.

I glanced over my shoulder and raised my eyes; he was still wearing that apron of his. Harry and Ron may have been too surprised by his presence to notice, but I certainly wasn't, and I definitely wasn't above mocking him for it.

"Nice apron," I said with a poorly concealed snicker.

His eyebrows drew together in a scowl. "Magic doesn't do the best job of getting grease stains out of clothes and I don't have access to my bank accounts right now to buy more shirts."

"Why were you trying to cook in the first place?"

"Have you seen the pantry? There's nothing prepared in there. After weeks here, I finally got tired of eating fruit and raw vegetables and decided it was time to try cooking something."

I sighed. One would think that Dumbledore would have more sense than to put a spoiled rich boy in a situation where he needed to cook for himself without any instruction. It was a wonder Malfoy hadn't burned the place down trying to feed himself.

"Come here and I'll show you how to cook chicken _without _burning it," I ordered.

He tilted his head to the side and squinted his eyes at me. "Did Lisette know how to cook? I think Bryn did, but I can't remember..."

Truthfully, I didn't know either. I couldn't remember whether either of us had known how to cook in our past incarnations. Like trying to hold water in my hands, more and more memories slipped through the cracks all the time.

"We're forgetting more," I said sadly.

It suddenly hit me how quiet Harry and Ron were being. I wasn't sure whether I should be worried or not. Knowing my friends as I did, it was probably safest to assume they were up to something I wasn't going to like.

I'd deal with them once I got the chicken in the oven.

"Help me chop these," I said to Malfoy absently as I chopped up some onion. I pushed some vegetables in his direction so he could assist me. The faster I stopped whatever nonsense Harry and Ron were getting into, the better.

Without complaint, Malfoy did as he was bid.

When I realized this, I glanced at him out of the corner of my eyes. He was either lonely or had missed me more than I thought. I was betting the former. He didn't want to offend me with his usual barbs and risk being left alone with his thoughts once again.

Working together, it didn't take us long to prepare the chicken and slip it into the oven. I made sure to bring Malfoy's attention to the temperature, but I doubted the information would sink in. If he thought I was just going to cook for him all summer just because I was the girl, he had another thing coming – Harry and Ron as well. I was an intellectual, _not _a domestic servant or their mothers.

I sighed again, not wanting to go find my friends. They'd had plenty of time to work themselves into quite a rage over the presence of a certain Pureblood blond, and if they weren't able to take it out on Malfoy, I was probably the next best option.

It only took a moment to pop the chicken in the oven while I instructed Malfoy on how to work the oven timer. This was something he was going to need to know if he was going to be able to cook for himself one day.

"You're sighing an awful lot, Granger. Not happy to see me again?" he asked mockingly.

I _was _actually happy to see him again, if only to reassure myself that he was fine and not broken and bleeding on the floor as I'd dreamt him to be. A shudder worked its way up from my feet to my head at just the thought of those horrible dreams I'd been having.

"You _are _aren't you?"

There was evil glee in his eyes. If I admitted to being happy to see him again, there was going to be no end to the mocking.

"Only as happy as you are to see me," I said primly.

There. Now he could only tease me for being happy to see him again if he admitted that he was also happy to see me. A nice solution because he would never admit something like that, no matter how bored he'd been here alone.

One of his pale eyebrows rose towards his hair. "You're getting more and more Slytherin every day."

Ew. The way he said that made it seem like he considered it a compliment. I wasn't sure how I felt about that; being called Slytherin wasn't the insult I would have considered it a few years ago, but I still wasn't sure if I considered it a compliment as well.

Just to be safe, I shot him a glare before leaving the room. It was a tried and true response to anything and everything that came out of his moth, so why change it now?

Harry and Ron were just where I'd left them, in the middle of the living room. The difference was that they'd piled all the furniture in the centre of the room in an attempt to reach the surprisingly high ceiling where their wands were stuck. The effort was futile, but if that was how they wanted to expend their excess energy, then I wasn't going to stop them.

Rolling my eyes at them, I levitated my trunk over to me and then climbed the stairs in search of my bedroom. They were so focused on their climb that they didn't even notice me as I passed them.

A loud thump and then yelling echoed up the stairs. Harry and Ron must have fallen from their furniture tower.

"There's only two bedrooms here, Granger," Malfoy said as he came up the stairs behind me. I was willing to bet that he'd had something to do with Harry and Ron's fall, but I didn't ask. I was too distracted by the fact that Dumbledore had stuck us in a house that didn't have enough bedrooms for all of us. Worse yet, it appeared to only have _one bathroom_.

The summer just got better and better.

I peeked behind all three doors on the second floor, just to be sure that Malfoy had been telling the truth. He was. There was one large bedroom, one smaller one, and a decent size bathroom with a shower, tub, and toilet.

"And there's an attic bedroom above the small room," he added when he saw my distressed expression.

Well, that made things slightly easier. I entered the smaller bedroom, looking up at the ceiling for the telltale rectangle representing what was hopefully a set of dropdown stairs.

The ceilings on the second floor were much lower than they were on the first. Even so, my fingers barely brushed against the latch I needed to turn in order to allow the stairs to come down.

Malfoy watched me struggle for a moment before coming up behind me and turning the piece of wood.

I tried not to notice the feel of his chest as it brushed against my back or the smell of him that surrounded me like a familiar blanket. He didn't smell like Bryn, but it was still a comforting scent.

To dislodge the strange, _unwanted _feelings, I shook my head roughly.

"Thank you," I said stiffly before climbing up the stairs. They were rickety and wobbly, but they held me as I climbed them.

The first impression I got from the attic was _cobwebs _and then _darkness_. What a welcoming place.

A wave of my wand removed the dust and spider webs, improving the atmosphere slightly. The room was very tiny, barely fitting a bed and a small bureau, but it wasn't horrible.

When I found a small dormer window, complete with a window seat, in the corner, my estimation of the room went up a little. I had always adored window seats. They were the perfect place to curl up and read.

Another cleaning spell cleared the grime from the window and allowed some light to enter the room. It wasn't so bad at all. I could see myself spending the summer with the small attic room as my haven from what was sure to be chaos in the rest of the house.

"There's no way in hell you're sticking me in this matchbook," Malfoy said, his head poking into the room at the top of the stairs and looking around in disgust. Yes, I could see how the cozy room would offend his Malfoy sensibilities.

"I'm going to be the one staying here," I said before he started with the whining. "You're going to take the room below and Harry and Ron can share the big one."

His face screwed up in irritation. He had already claimed the largest room as his own. I knew this because his clothes were scattered across the floor in a haphazard fashion, emphasis on the _haphazard_. People could break their neck trying to get out of the room. If there was a fire and he had to leave quickly, he might burn alive just because his foot got stuck in a stray shirt.

My eyes widened when I realized what I'd just thought. I could only thank Merlin that I hadn't said anything aloud, I sounded _just _like my mum did whenever my room at home ever got even slightly untidy.

"Unless you want to share the larger one with Harry or Ron?" I asked innocently, schooling my expression into a sly one.

I just grinned at his scowl. I was glad he was seeing things my way.

Now the only thing I was going to have to worry about was explaining to Harry and Ron that while they were sharing the larger room, I was essentially sharing a room with Malfoy. Since the entrance to my new bedroom was in the ceiling of Malfoy's, when his door was locked, Harry and Ron wouldn't be able to get in. I didn't doubt for a second that they would take this as some kind of ploy on Malfoy's part to threaten my innocence.

I was going to hex them if they so much as mentioned the word "innocence".

Grumbling, Malfoy descended the stairs again and went to go gather his things from the other room.

I was just storing the last of my clothes in the small bureau in my room when I heard a faint dinging sound, signifying the chicken was done cooking.

"The food's done," I said to Malfoy as I passed him. He hadn't bothered tidying the clothes that had been scattered across the floor in the other room. Judging from the crumpled pile the garments rested in on the floor, he had only scooped them up and thrown them onto the floor in his new room.

Harry and Ron were crowded around the stove. "Back away from the food," I snapped. "Neither of you are getting anything to eat until you promise to at least _try _to get along."

What was it about boys and food? As soon as they could smell that something was cooking, they had a tendency to flock to the kitchen to see if there was something that they could steal.

I pushed past them, opened the oven, and pulled out the chicken and vegetables. Setting out two plates, I put a chicken breast and some vegetables on each and sat down at the table, making sure to leave the remaining food in the middle of the table on a pot holder. I wasn't taking any chances with my friends stealing some. I needed to hold their hunger over them until they bent to my will.

If this failed, I had noticed the ingredients for chocolate cake earlier while I was in the pantry. Ron would never be able to hold out against cake, especially since Molly had taught me her recipe.

Malfoy sauntered into the room and joined me at the table in front of the other plate, smirking at Harry and Ron the entire time.

"Why does he get food?" Ron demanded.

"He helped prepare it. It's not really fair for me to withhold food from him when he helped me make it."

"Fine," Ron said, his eyes focused on the meal. "I'll try to get along with him."

I hid a smile as I Summoned a plate for him and gestured to the chicken for him to help himself. He was so easy; threaten to withhold one meal, and he was putty in my hands.

Harry wasn't as easy, but after watching Ron devour the food on his plate and then start eyeing the remaining chicken, Harry relented and promised as well.

Things were looking up already – or at least they would be until Harry and Ron learned of the sleeping arrangements.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! And also thanks to irianaceleste for betaing! I don't really have anything else to say, so here's the chapter...**

**~Frosty**

"That wasn't horrible, Granger," Malfoy said once he'd cleared his plate.

A small, secret smile bloomed on my lips. I was glad he'd made the effort to make known his appreciation for my culinary skills.

"That was dangerously close to a compliment, Malfoy," Harry snapped.

For the thousandth time that day, I sighed, my smile wilting into a frown. I loved them to death, but I was really reaching the end of my patience with Harry and Ron's complete refusal to accept that Malfoy may not be evil incarnate. "Harry, you promised to try and get along."

"He insulted you!" Harry shouted.

"He didn't," I said firmly. "That was as close to a compliment as he gets."

It really was as close to Malfoy got to a compliment, and I was betting he'd only said it because he'd helped prepare it. Really, he was only complimenting himself. Still, I was pleased that he'd voiced his approval for the meal seeing as Harry and Ron certainly hadn't bothered.

"I can't deal with you people," Malfoy grumbled. "I'm going to bed."

Harry and Ron watched him leave while I frowned at them. I wasn't sure whether Malfoy was fleeing because I'd seen through his veiled compliment or he was just unwilling to deal with the hostility that was emanating from my two friends.

"What's going on with you two?" Harry demanded, rounding on me the moment Malfoy was out of the room. "And don't try to tell me that there's nothing going on there because there's obviously something. He helped you cook, hasn't called you a Mudblood since we've been here, and you two disappeared upstairs for quite a while. Alone."

My eyebrows rose even as my cheeks reddened. Honestly, I wasn't sure if the heat across my face was from anger or because of the images Harry's insinuation had conjured in my obviously overactive imagination. For my sanity, I decided that I was flushed with anger. "Are you accusing me of sleeping with Malfoy?" I demanded.

"Are you?" Harry asked, his gaze unwavering.

"Not in this lifetime," I snapped, standing from the table and loudly clearing the plates. I heard Ron whisper something that contained the word 'mental' to Harry. Angrily, I whipped around. "Malfoy isn't the horrible person you think he is. I've been telling you this all along. The Order is hiding him, which means Dumbledore trusts him. Isn't that enough for you?"

I didn't wait for their answer, storming out of the room.

Malfoy's door was closed and locked when I got there. Scowling, I whacked it a few times, hissing for him to let me in. I had to keep my voice down, figuring that if I yelled for him to let me in his room, it would only enforce Harry's erroneous accusations. Next he was going to think Malfoy and I were in danger of running away together and spend all of his spare time following us and making sure Malfoy didn't get too close to the door when I was within arm's reach.

Malfoy whipped open the door, glaring at me.

"What the hell, Granger?" he demanded. The room was dark behind him, his hair looked pillow-ruffled and, most importantly, he was shirtless.

I tried not to blush and stare, awkwardly shuffling for a moment as I avoided his increasingly amused stare. The irritatingly fit git could probably see right through my attempts to appear unaffected by his partial nudity.

He probably would have let me stand there making myself look like an idiot for a while had I not heard the sound of Harry and Ron coming up the stairs and dove at him, shoving him into the room and locking the door behind me.

"What's wrong, Granger? Don't want your little friends to catch you ogling the enemy?" he asked, his hands holding my forearms in case I decided to tackle him once more.

While a tempting notion, I restrained myself. Putting my hands on his bare chest wasn't a good idea. I had a feeling that – of their own volition, of course – my hands might not so much shove, but instead start using their fingertips to explore every smooth, alabaster inch of that chest.

"I wasn't ogling you!" I snapped, forcing my eyes away from where they had in fact been ogling him. It had to be the connections that we had between our souls that were drawing me to him - that or my hormones. I refused to believe that I was starting to develop soft, mushy feelings for him.

He smirked at me.

Growling in frustration, I walked around him and climbed up the ladder to my room. My eyes narrowed further when I heard him chuckling at the bottom of the stairs. I was glad that he managed to get some enjoyment from my embarrassment; I certainly wasn't going to let myself get caught by surprise and dragged into a similar situation in the future.

* * *

My eyes snapped open. There was something out there in the darkness. Some sound other than the natural creaks of the house settling and the wind outside the walls.

I was just on the verge of falling back into sleep, having convinced myself that it was just my imagination, when the sound that had roused me in the first place happened again. A quiet whimpering and the rustling of sheets as a body tossed and turned.

Grabbing my wand just in case, I slipped from my bed and climbed down the ladder as silently as I could manage. My decent was actually surprisingly soundless – until I reached the bottom and tripped over an article of clothing that had been carelessly tossed onto the floor. I landed with a thump that I was sure would wake everyone else in the house, but the silence continued.

When the whimpering started again, I picked myself up from the floor and carefully navigated my way over to Malfoy's bed.

I could barely see him in the dark and didn't want to bring light into the room. Oddly, I felt safe hidden in the dark, but the minute I lit my wand, I was risking exposing myself. To what, I wasn't quite sure, but I knew I wasn't ready for it. Malfoy's eyes stripped me of my defenses, but shielded by the dark, he wouldn't be able to see me.

"Malfoy?" I asked in a quiet whisper.

"Mother," he whimpered. "Don't kill her! No!"

Shite. He was having a nightmare. My first instinct was to run back to my bed and pretend I hadn't seen anything. I knew that Malfoy would prefer I did that, what with his complete aversion to showing any vulnerability. It was my bloody conscience that got in the way of the safe option.

I was on the verge of turning around and retreating back to my attic when he whimpered again, the tugging of my conscience stabbing at the back of my mind. Bloody hell, my soft nature was going to be the death of me.

Having made my decision, I crossed the little distance between myself and his bed. I stood there for a moment, wondering if waking him up was the best option. Maybe I could just pat his shoulder a few times and he'd settle?

Tentatively, I reached out and rested a hand on his forehead. It was warm to the touch and he was sweating. Perhaps he needed to cool down and then he'd calm and fall into a deep sleep once more?

I was in the process of pulling my hand back and going to get a cloth to cool him off when his arm whipped out and grabbed me, yanking me down onto the bed with him. Gasping, he clutched at me desperately in the darkness, only calming when his nose was buried in my hair. Stiff with shock and discomfort, I rubbed soothing circles on his back and murmured nonsense in a calming voice.

Well, this wasn't exactly how I'd planned on getting up close and personal with his bare chest. In fact, I hadn't planned on getting up close and personal with any part of him, bare or otherwise. Gradually, my stiff posture started to ease when it became apparent that he wasn't going to wake up just because he'd grabbed me.

His proximity was strange. He'd carried me after the wolf attack and I'd been practically in his lap trying to heal him, but this was different. He'd wrapped himself around me and clung there like wet clothing. The bed and the night just added a whole other layer to the things that unnerved me about the situation.

When he woke up, he was going to shove me from his bed, and call me a pervert for preying on him while he slept like some kind of deviant. Malfoy wouldn't thank me for taking the time to try and ease his sleep.

He nuzzled his nose in my hair, rubbing a spot just below my ear and making goose bumps rise on the back of my neck. I fought off a shiver at his affectionate gesture. It wasn't me he was affectionate towards, it was some dream figure.

"Malfoy, let me go," I hissed, trying to wriggle out of his grip. While shock had initially prevented me from attempting to escape, I knew it was wrong to enjoy affection that was never meant for me.

His arms held firm, stopping me from escaping what was rapidly becoming an astoundingly uncomfortable situation. I prayed that Malfoy wouldn't wake up before I'd managed to escape from his bed.

The nuzzling stopped and he started kissing down my neck. I immediately went rigid as goose bumps sprouted all over my skin and a very intense fluttering started in my stomach. Merlin, he knew what he was doing.

What kind of person _seduces _women in his sleep? It wasn't natural.

When his arms loosened – I suspected because he was going to attempt to grope my chest - I wiggled out of his grasp, confident that he was done with the nightmares. If he was trying to get in my pants while having a nightmare, then I didn't want to know what he got up to in the bedroom. Most likely terrifying, horrible things.

Standing over him, I waited a moment to make sure he wasn't going to start thrashing again. Despite my _aversion _to being seduced by Malfoy, I couldn't find it in my heart to just leave him there if he was suffering.

After a moment of reaching for his bed mate and not finding me, Malfoy grabbed onto a pillow and clutched it to his chest in the same way he'd held me only seconds before. It was kind of adorable – now that it wasn't me trapped against him of course.

Well aware that I had passed from well-meaning and moved on into creepy stalker territory while watching him sleep, I crept back up to my bed, determined to forget how much I'd enjoyed that fluttery feeling Malfoy had unconsciously elicited.

* * *

What felt like only moments after I closed my eyes, a loud banging put a harsh end to my sleep.

"Hermione, open this door right now!" Ron shouted from outside Malfoy's room.

I was glad that all the bedrooms in the Order's safe houses were fitted for privacy – and in this case, safety – reasons. No one could blast through the doors once they were locked, meaning my enraged friends were safely trapped in the hallway.

"I'm not dealing with this, Granger. Get rid of him so I can go back to sleep," Malfoy grumbled from his bed.

I winced, knowing that if I could hear him, then Ron probably could as well. My theory was confirmed when Ron's banging became even more violent.

"I knew Malfoy was in there with you!" Ron yelled. "There's three doors on this floor and one is the bathroom, you have to be sharing with Malfoy!"

"Congratulations on simple math, Weasley," Malfoy snapped, "Now you can move on to common courtesy. Here's your first lesson: it's rude to literally shout people awake _first thing in the morning_."

Before Ron got angry enough to try and batter down the door, I trundled down the ladder and carefully navigated Malfoy's cluttered floor. If I fell and broke my neck, my friends would probably blame Malfoy for it and murder him, completely ruining all the effort I'd put into saving the snarky arse from a death by Voldemort's wand.

"Do you _always _have to be antagonistic?" I asked Malfoy as I passed his bed. He didn't even bother to raise his head from the pillow and look at me. The ungrateful git didn't even have the grace to thank me for all the trouble I went through for him. I knew thanks weren't in his nature, but he could have been less of an arse to my friends. It would certainly make my life easier if he let up on the taunts a little.

On the other hand, I was actually relieved that he was acting like his normal self. If he wasn't teasing me about trying to take advantage of him or something equally ridiculous, then it meant that he probably didn't remember pulling me into bed with him last night. I didn't need him making thinly veiled references to it all the time and giving me that knowing smirk of his when Harry and Ron weren't looking.

"Hermione!" Ron yelled, banging on the door again.

Grumbling, I flicked the lock and ripped open the door.

Ron stumbled a step into the room; he must have been leaning on the door.

"I'm _not _sharing the room with Malfoy," I told him firmly. Maybe if I said it slowly and reasonably enough, it would get through his thick head.

"Then where are you sleeping?" Harry asked, peeking around the doorway and into the room. "And how do you explain Malfoy sleeping on the bed over there."

"Not sleeping," Malfoy added helpfully. "_Trying _to sleep. I can't because there's a bunch of morons making too much noise."

I grabbed Ron by the ear and dragged him over to the stairs that led up to my room. They were kind of glaringly obvious, so I had no idea how he'd missed them. He was probably blinded by rage and prejudice against Malfoy.

"You're _hurting _me," Ron said petulantly. He was acting like a child. And he wondered why I treated him like one.

"I sleep up these stairs," I said to Ron and Harry, who had followed behind me. "If you climb them, you'll see a bed. It's on a completely different level of the house than Malfoy's."

Harry nodded, satisfied. Ron still looked a little doubtful, but I gave him a little bit of an extra twist to his ear. He winced in pain and didn't make any more comments on the sleeping arrangements.

Shoving Ron out of the room behind Harry, I shut the door and climbed back to bed, hoping to get a few more hours of sleep. It wasn't like there was much I could be doing, so I was free to take a few extra hours and catch up on some desperately needed shuteye.

* * *

Harry and Ron cornered me later that day. I should have known that they wouldn't let go of the sleeping arrangement issue so easily. Unfortunately, I'd been impeded by my tired state and my optimism. Time and time again I hoped that Harry and Ron would have normal, reasonable reactions regarding Malfoy, and they continued to crush those hopes with constant accusations.

"Hermione, we need to talk to you," Harry said seriously.

I followed him and Ron out into the yard. The wards extended to the edges of the property, so we could get some fresh air and avoid going stir crazy cooped up inside the house all summer.

"What did you want?" I asked.

Harry took a breath, preparing himself. "I want to say I'm sorry."

I stared at him a moment, making sure he was serious. When he didn't blink or look away, I ascertained that he was, in fact, serious. Maybe this time I was the one who had jumped to conclusions about someone by thinking that Harry was going to once again crush my hopes for Harry and Ron to accept that Malfoy wasn't secretly plotting our demise.

My eyebrow rose. "For...?"

"For not trusting you. I know there's something you're not telling us about Malfoy, but I also know that you and Dumbledore trust him and that should be enough for me," He elbowed Ron when the redhead snorted. "We're all stuck in the bloody house together, and I don't want to spend the entire summer fighting." His hand extended towards me. "Friends again?"

Instead of taking the hand he offered, I launched myself at him and squeezed him tightly. "Thank you for trusting me," I said fervently.

When I pulled away, I tried to nonchalantly brush the moisture from my eyes. I'd _missed _Harry, and I was glad to have him back.

Harry looked at Ron and elbowed him again.

"_Ow_," Ron complained. "Fine. I'm sorry too, but I' not going to pretend to like Malfoy."

"Of course not! We don't want you to strain yourself," I said without much heat. I was glad that Ron was going to try for a truce, even if I doubted that he would actually manage to make nice with Malfoy.

I linked an arm with both of them. "Come on, I'll teach you two my mum's secret recipe for crepes."

I practically skipped back to the house, dragging them behind me.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**A/N: Hello readers! Sorry this has taken so long, I've been busy. I had exams and now I'm moving on Saturday. Gah. I know a few of you have asked questions in reviews, but I haven't had time to answer them yet. I'll try and get to them as soon as possible. **

**Thanks for Irianaceleste for betaing and to everyone who took the time to review, especially those people who review consistently, you guys are awesome!**

**~Frosty**

"Well isn't this just a sickening display of Gryffindor camaraderie," Malfoy said, walking into the room just as I smeared a blob of crepe batter onto Harry's cheek, giggling all the while. The viscous liquid slid off of Harry's cheek and plopped onto his shoulder, but he was too busy glaring at Malfoy for the interruption to get back at me for the mess.

For a short time, it had actually felt like we were young again, without the weight of the world on our shoulders as we played in the kitchen at the Burrow. We'd had a similar day of crepes when we were Third Years and Molly had gone away for a few days, leaving her family to feed themselves. Her many children had each taken a turn making a meal, and Harry and I had assisted when it was Ron's turn. It had been a blast making enough crepes to feed everyone. Even now the memory still made me smile. Things had been simpler when we were young.

"Oh, have a crepe, Malfoy," I said, not kindly. I wasn't pleased that he had interrupted our fun. Flopping a crepe on a plate and smearing it with jam and sprinkling some icing sugar on top.

"I'm not eating that." He eyed it distastefully. Despite his expression, he came into the room and took a few steps towards the table.

When I set the plate in front of him, he only poked at the food.

My eyes rolled to the ceiling. "Are you that terrified of one little crepe, or are you just worried that you might enjoy it? You might even _smile_." I faked a shudder. "You better give it back before irreparable damage is done to your reputation."

He glared. "Your humour is not appreciated, Granger."

Knowing he wasn't going to eat it if I kept watching him, I turned back to Harry and Ron. The both of them were giving me strange looks.

"You treat him like you do us," Ron whispered.

"Like a person?" I asked.

"No, like a friend," Harry said.

I glanced over at Malfoy, who was just finishing the last bite of his crepe. There was even the tiniest upturning at the corner of his lips. I knew he'd enjoy it if he just got over himself long enough to try it!

"He sort of is my friend."

* * *

Harry and Ron were playing their millionth game of chess and I was bored out of my mind. I'd brought some light reading, what they call a library of books, with me, but for once I didn't feel like reading. I was too restless. Serious, dangerous, world-changing things were happening and we were sequestered away in a safe house, away from the action. I wasn't eager to fight or anything, but I didn't do well on the sidelines.

The summer heat was finally starting to hit and cooling charms just weren't having the effect they should. The house was stuffy, and my restless was starting to make the walls feel like they were closing in on me, a problem worsened by the heat and heaviness of the air. I had great difficulty sitting still inside the house, so I took to spending my time outside.

I was sprawled out on the edge of the cliff, enjoying the cool breeze from the ocean. It made the heat slightly less stifling. I was fine with the height of the cliff as long as I didn't glance over the edge. Some of the larger waves splashed enough to make a refreshing mist, so I was more than willing to risk a little vertigo should I accidentally glance down in exchange for feeling cooler.

"For someone making an effort at friendship, you seem to be spending a lot of time avoiding me today," Malfoy said, coming up to sit beside me. A wave splashed against the cliff, spraying the both of us with a fine mist and I turned up my face to appreciate it. After an initial bout of surprise, Malfoy mirrored my actions. The droplets accumulated in his hair and made it sparkle with crystals of water, refracting the sun until he was almost too dazzling to stare at directly.

"For someone supposed to be making an effort at friendship, you spend an awful lot of time antagonising me and my friends," I retorted.

"Nice try, Granger. I want to know why you've been avoiding me since this morning. You haven't said a word to me after you practically shoved crepes down my throat, and I haven't changed the way I treat you; it's you whose behaviour has been altered."

I rolled slightly so my back was to him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Grabbing my raised shoulder, he yanked me onto my back once more and leant over me, his grey eyes piercing mine. "You're lying."

"And you're invading my personal space." I jerked my shoulder out of his hold. I wasn't going to admit it, but he was making me uncomfortable, looking at me like that. Last night was still in the forefront of my mind. I'd enjoyed him being that close to me, too much for me to be able to pretend that I wasn't attracted to him anymore.

I was attracted to Draco Malfoy and not just on a physical level. He'd always been attractive, but his repulsive personality had always overshadowed that attractiveness. Now however, I knew him better. He wasn't the bastard I had once thought him to be. He was actually kind of all right when he wasn't trying to get under my skin.

"I'll get it out of you eventually," he threatened in what he probably thought was an intimidating tone. I was sure he'd be disappointed to know that he didn't scare me in the least.

The warmth of the sun returned to my skin as he once again gave me my personal space.

"You work on that," I said condescendingly as I tilted my face back towards the sun. I knew dismissing him like that was going to frustrate him.

Closing my eyes, I waited.

"You're not taking my threats seriously," he said almost immediately.

I smiled but didn't open my eyes. "What makes you think that?"

A torrent of freezing water drenched me, nearly stopping my heart with the sudden, unexpected coldness. Sputtering, I sat up and stared at Malfoy, who was looking entirely too proud of himself.

"How'd you do that?" I demanded, at my most threatening. With my hair plastered to my head, my clothes moulded to my body, and my skin puckered into goose bumps while I tried not to shiver, I knew my most threatening wasn't very formidable.

Smirking, he waved his hand and summoned more water from the ocean below. Wandless magic. The bastard was able to us wandless magic.

I used my wand to stop the second blast of water from hitting me and summoned some of my own, drenching him with it.

Just as I had, Malfoy sputtered and shivered a bit before regaining his bearings. Unlike me, who probably looked like a drowned rat, Malfoy looked good wet. He could probably make a seaweed wrap look attractive.

A fierce water battle ensued, thankfully banishing the traitorous thoughts from my mind.

We were both completely drenched and laughing by the time we were too exhausted to continue.

"Are you going to tell me now, or are you going to get drenched again?" he asked, raising his hand as if to summon more water. Unfortunately for him, I knew he was too tired to summon more water. He was bluffing.

"You're just as tired as I am. I doubt you'd be able to summon any more water," I scoffed. Besides, I was already wet so it didn't really matter if I got drenched again. I'd adjusted to the temperature of the water and it wasn't as cold as I'd initially thought. It was more refreshing than anything.

He stripped off his shirt and wrung it out over my head.

"Very mature," I said, wiping the water out of my eyes and pointedly avoided looking at his chest. It was even more appealing during the day, in bright sunlight that caught in the droplets of water and highlighted his pale skin with bright spots of light.

"Tell me or I see how much water I can squeeze out of my pants next," he threatened.

I narrowed my eyes and glared. He was so annoying.

"Do you remember your dreams last night?" I asked.

He frowned and tilted his head slightly, staring off into space while he tried to remember. Eventually, he gave up and shrugged, "Nothing out of the usual."

"Just the regular nightmares about the death of your mum?" I asked quietly, braced for an outburst.

He looked at me sharply, "What are you talking about?"

I didn't even need to say anything. His eyes widened as he connected what I assumed to be fragmented dream memories with what had really happened.

"You crawled into bed with me!" he practically shouted. Besides the volume, there wasn't much inflection in his voice. I wasn't sure if he was horrified that he'd been so close to a Mudblood or if he was just upset that I'd invaded his personal space – not that I'd had much of a choice.

"No," I corrected, "You _yanked _me into bed with you and then I struggled free."

He need not know that I'd been willing to stay in his bed for the night with him and probably would have had he not started kissing down my neck. I had to suppress a shiver at just the memory of the liquid fire of his lips on my skin.

His eyes narrowed as he studied me closely. I prayed it wasn't because he remembered getting a little too friendly with someone in his dream and was suspicious that it may have been me. I _really _didn't want to have to relive the memory, especially by explaining to him what had happened. It would be mortifying.

"Is everything all right out here, Hermione?" Harry called, jogging towards us. "Ron and I heard yel- why are you both wet? And why doesn't Malfoy have his shirt on?"

Glancing around, I found Malfoy's shirt and chucked it at him, motioning with my wide eyes for him to cover his Dark Mark. Bloody hell, we had been so careless in our fun.

My warning was too late. Harry, eyes burning with anger, rushed at Malfoy and tried to tackle him. My quickly cast shield spell held strong and he slid harmlessly past the blond.

"Harry, stop!" I shouted, trying to grab my friend's arm and halt his attacks. I knew I wouldn't be able to reason with him while he kept throwing himself at Malfoy.

Instead of being amused by the whole thing, Malfoy looked a little disturbed. I knew the Dark Mark wasn't something he was proud of, but I couldn't understand his reaction. Not for the first time, I wished for a look inside his head to figure out what in the world he was thinking.

I put myself in front of Malfoy, physically separating him from Harry's attacks.

"Harry, look at me!" I shouted.

He calmed enough for reason to return to his eyes, but the burning anger remained in the background. My theory was that whenever he saw a Dark Mark, his mind jumped to the death of Sirius and he wasn't able to think of much beyond revenge. He was going to have to deal with that before he rushed into battle and got himself killed.

"Do I look surprised at all that he has a Dark Mark?" I demanded in a quieter voice.

Malfoy, thankfully, remained silent. I couldn't see him, but I hoped he wasn't making faces at Harry. It really wouldn't help the situation.

"You knew?" Harry asked. He was giving me that bloody look of betrayal again! Why couldn't he just trust me without explanation, just once? I'd done just that on multiple occasions for him, yet he never returned the favour.

"For someone who's supposed to be disgustingly loyal, you certainly spend a lot of time doubting Ganger, Potter," Malfoy said conversationally.

It was nice to know that at least _someone _knew how friends were supposed to act. That it was Malfoy telling Harry how he should treat friends was just depressing.

"I wasn't talking to you, Malfoy," Harry snapped before turning his attention back to me.

"No," I interrupted. "But he's right. Why do you have so little faith in me? You treat me like it's only a matter of time before I slip up and get you killed."

Harry looked like I'd slapped him. "It's not _me _I'm worried about. I don't want you to get yourself hurt." He glanced at Malfoy and leaned in closer to me, lowering his voice. "I can't lose anyone else."

I felt a rush of sympathy and reached for my friend, but Malfoy grabbed my arm to stop me. He was closer than I had realized. "You're going to let him get away with this shite just because he played the dead parents card?"

Harry's eyes snapped over to Malfoy and narrowed dangerously. I had no doubt that he would have attacked if he hadn't already tried and failed with that route. "What do you know about loss, Malfoy?" Harry spit.

Malfoy gave me a look that clearly said _"Don't you dare tell Potter my story_" before he turned and walked away. Loss was a touchy subject for him, and I was proud of him for leaving instead of lashing out, something that seemed to be automatic for him when someone touched a nerve.

"He knows more about loss than you think," I said quietly. "And I understand that you worry about me, but you have to trust that I know what I'm doing."

Harry looked momentarily startled at the idea that Malfoy might be human. When he recovered, he nodded, but he didn't look happy about it. "It would be easier if you didn't keep so much from me."

"I've taken vows, Harry. You're just going to have to trust me when I say that Malfoy's on our side. We can't keep having this conversation every time you learn something new about Malfoy," I sighed. "There's a war coming and he's on our side of it. Get used to that."

Harry frowned at the mention of the war. "We can't just sit here and wait for Voldemort to come and find us. We should at least be preparing like we did with Dumbledore's Army."

That was actually a good idea. We could practice duelling. Not only would it give us something productive to do, but it would expend energy and perhaps allow Harry and Ron a useful outlet for their hostility towards Malfoy.

My mind started spinning with plans and possibilities for this new idea.

* * *

"Why are you and Malfoy wet?" Ron asked as soon as Harry and I entered the house. "And why did Malfoy storm through here looking so angry? I think he would have hexed something if he had his wand."

"Harry said some things he shouldn't have," I mumbled.

I summoned the three wands down from the ceiling and handed Harry and Ron theirs. If we were going to start practicing duelling then they were going to need their wands. Returning them had the added bonus of distracting Ron from asking more questions about Malfoy.

Pocketing Malfoy's wand, I rushed up the stairs to return his wand as well.

Unsurprisingly, the door was closed, but he hadn't locked it. I pushed it open to find Malfoy sitting on his bed, staring at the wall.

"If you keep bottling everything up, you're going to explode," I said.

"If you keep pestering me to talk about my mother's death, I'll make sure it's _you _who explodes," he snapped.

I rolled my eyes at his threat and fished his wand out of my pocket, offering it to him handle-first.

He accepted it, caressing the wood almost reverently. I knew how it felt to be without your wand. It was like missing a part of yourself and then rediscovering that part when it was returned. I turned my eyes away, giving him a moment getting used to having his wand once again.

"What's this for?" he asked as he swished the wand a few times, making sparks appear.

"We're going to practice duelling so we're ready for whatever the other side throws at us. You'll need your wand for that."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Shooting spells at Potter and Weasley? I'm in"

"I thought you might be," I muttered as I followed him from the room.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

**A/N: Hello readers! Sorry it's been so long, but here's a chapter, so you can stop sharpening your pitchforks, yes? **

**As always, thanks to all the wonderful people who took the time to review and thanks to irianaceleste for betaing!**

**~Frosty**

I dodged a spell, the beam of sickly orange only narrowly missing my shoulder.

"Those horrible reflexes of yours are going to get you killed, Granger," Malfoy called. His voice wasn't malicious or anything, but his constant commentary was really starting to get on my nerves; did he have to have a snarky comment for _everything_?

Harry and Ron were on the other side of the property firing spells at each other. I had thought it best that Malfoy and I start out together for our duelling. I still wasn't completely sure that Harry and Ron could be left with Malfoy armed and unattended. So I was stuck with the git and his mocking until the three boys realized that maybe they didn't have as much to fight about as they'd thought. I wasn't holding my breath.

I may have known more spells than him, but Malfoy knew Dark spells I didn't, and he was _fast_. If Malfoy's was the standard that all Death Eaters were at, then we had a lot of work to do before we stood a chance. I had a feeling that Malfoy's talents were more his own than due to Death Eater training, but it wouldn't hurt to be prepared.

I looked over at Malfoy. His eyes were bright, there was the pink of exertion in his cheeks and he bounced very slightly on the balls of his feet, ready for my next attack. It had been a while since I'd seen him looking so alive. I'd been right when I thought that duelling would do him some good.

"Enough!" I called after another gruelling half hour of Malfoy firing spells at me. I did manage to get a few good shots in between the many he managed but not near enough to escape the duel with my pride intact. I didn't completely humiliate myself; I wasn't, however, looking forward to doing the same thing all summer.

"Had enough?" Malfoy asked with that stupid smirk of his.

"It's time for dinner," I answered.

His smirk didn't leave his face; I had a feeling he knew hunger wasn't the reason I was calling our duelling to a halt. I narrowed my eyes and pictured hexing that stupid smirk right off of his face... if only he wasn't too fast for me to manage to hit him with one.

"Do you need our help?" Harry called, having heard my last comment.

I waved him off. "I've got it tonight, but you two are cooking tomorrow."

I'd make sure they did it. If I had to, I'd supervise just to make sure their concoction wasn't going to kill anyone. I didn't think this would be necessary though; from what Harry had told me, he frequently prepared meals at his Aunt and Uncle's house, so at least one of the two was marginally competent in front of a stove. While I believed Harry, I had my doubts about Ron's culinary prowess. It was unlikely that Mrs. Weasley let those rowdy sons of hers in the kitchen very often – I didn't blame her, they'd probably make a huge mess.

Walking towards the house, I noticed that Malfoy was following behind me. "Going to help me prepare dinner?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I figure that since I've spent the last few hours beating your arse at duelling, the least I can do is help with the dinner preparation. You're mental if you think I'm going to clean though."

I rolled my eyes at him.

* * *

I lay in bed, hurting everywhere. I hadn't even fallen asleep and I already knew I didn't want to wake up in the morning. My muscles were organising a rebellion against me for the treatment I'd put them through earlier. I was achy enough to suspect that one of the spells that Malfoy had hit me with was actually something to create insomnia through aches and pains. If that was the case, it was a truly evil spell.

The door to Malfoy's room made a click as he entered and then closed it behind him.

"No matter what you hear tonight, mind your own business," Malfoy called up to me. "Do you hear me, Granger?"

I did what I thought to be a nice thing and he treated me like I'd done something horrible to him. I certainly wasn't going to make the same mistake again.

"Don't worry, Malfoy. I couldn't climb down the stairs if I wanted to." I wasn't kidding; I really didn't think I'd be able to climb down the stairs to the main floor. All that leg bending just wasn't going to be pleasant.

He made a snorting noise, but didn't press the issue further.

* * *

"NO!" Malfoy shouted from his bed, shattering the silence of the night.

I jolted straight up in bed, suddenly completely awake. Remembering my promise from earlier, I lay back into the soft embrace of my mattress and tried to block out the anguished sounds coming from the room below.

I only lasted a few minutes. It just wasn't in my nature to ignore such obvious distress, and Malfoy's distress in particular struck something within me that resonated with a sympathetic desire to stop it.

Groaning quietly, I stood from the bed, my stiff muscles protesting the entire way across the floor and then down the stairs. I'd been right in thinking descending them wouldn't be any fun at all for my aching body.

Malfoy should have known better than to insist that I not do anything to help him. Screw his objections; did he not know me at all? Rarely did I ever listen to him anyway, so why should this matter be any different? It wasn't.

Just like the previous night, Malfoy was thrashing, getting himself thoroughly tangled in his sheets. By the way he'd spoken before going to sleep he'd known this was going to happen, implying that this was an expected, nightly occurrence. I felt a stab of sympathy for him, but the sympathy was somewhat dampened by the fact that I was awake in the middle of the night and he'd just expected me to lay in my bed, listening to him yelling all night without interfering.

I paused at the bottom of the stairs, briefly debating going back to my bed and casting silencing charms. Unfortunately, my bloody conscience wouldn't allow that. With a soundless sigh, I moved through the obstacles on his floor.

Reaching his bedside, I perched there and hesitantly reached out a hand towards him, running it through his damp hair in an attempt to soothe him like my mum had once done to me whenever I'd had a bad dream as a child. I was careful to watch him in case he tried to grab me again. I didn't want a repeat of the events after his previous nightmare. He was already going to be upset with me for interfering; I could only imagine his displeasure to find that I was in his bed with him.

His thrashing slowed slightly at my touch, but he didn't stop. Had we had the ingredients in stock at the house, I would have made him a Dreamless Sleep Draught and we could have avoided this whole mess. The stuff wasn't really safe for long term use for a few reasons, but Malfoy would probably be willing to risk it in order to get some proper sleep, since thrashing all night was hardly restful. Perhaps I could send a letter to Dumbledore requesting the potion? Surely this was a situation serious enough to warrant it.

"Malfoy, wake up," I said clearly, not stopping my hand from moving through his hair. I couldn't help but notice how soft it was despite being wet and knotted from his movements.

It took several more tries, but eventually his whimpering stopped and his eyes flickered open. I could tell that it took him a moment to understand what I was doing in his bed and where he was, but when it registered, his face darkened. I drew my hand back at the look, not wanting to make him more irritated with me.

"Bloody perfect," he muttered. "Let me guess, I was making noise again?"

I nodded. "Does this happen to you every night?"

"Not on the nights I can get a Dreamless Sleep Draught," he muttered.

"How'd you handle this while you were in school?" I asked. I knew that potions as dangerous as the Dreamless Sleep Draught had been carefully regulated while we were in school. Too much and a user could become dependent or overdose and never wake up again.

"Pansy usually," he grumbled, not looking all that fond of the memories.

I blushed and looked away, not wanting to think about exactly how it was that Pansy had helped him. I was betting that it wasn't something I would be willing to substitute for just so he could get some sleep.

He stared at me for a beat, frowning. I had a moment to notice that the glint in his eyes looked contemplative before he grabbed me by the back of my neck, pulled me down to his level, and pressed his lips against mine.

I froze, not moving or breathing as he tugged until I was lying in the bed beside him. He seemed half-tensed and expecting me to hit him, but I didn't. Not even I could figure out why. Why wasn't I hitting him? I should have protested the moment I noticed the contemplation in his eyes. That's what I _should _have done, but I found myself instead relaxing against him and kissing him back.

He was enticing in a way I didn't quite understand and couldn't resist – I didn't _want _to resist him. Something was seriously wrong with me. I wrapped my arms around him and wound them into his hair, pulling him even closer. Malfoy, encouraged by my participation, shifted so he was above me.

My heart was pounding and there was a spreading warmth in my stomach that told me to let him continue, but my sense was telling me that this needed to stop before the situation was completely out of hand. I just couldn't bring myself to stop him. His fingers trailed down my side and I shuddered, practically purring with pleasure.

What was _wrong _with me? When had I turned into such a wanton tart?

Luckily, Malfoy seemed to agree that we were well on the path to a horrible mistake. He abruptly pushed himself off of me, lying beside me on his back and breathing heavily. I was in the same boat, taking deep breaths while trying to calm my hormones.

"You should probably go," he said.

I licked my swollen lips before answering. My heart rate hadn't calmed and I was having trouble getting my thoughts straightened. "Your nightmares-"

"Granger, trust me, I have plenty of new things to horrify me," he snapped.

Hurt, I turned my eyes on him, trying to gauge the motive and sincerity behind his comment. He certainly hadn't acted as if he thought touching me was horrifying while he'd been shoving his tongue down my throat. I hoped he couldn't tell from my expression that I had felt a sharp stab of hurt and disappointment at his cruel words. If he was going to go back to being a complete bastard, I didn't want him to have that little bit of extra fodder for his insults.

His irritated gaze lingered on me for a moment before he turned his head away to face the wall.

Obviously not wanted, I practically bolted from his bed and back up the stairs to my room, fighting off tears for some strange reason.

* * *

"I think we should try different pairs today," I said at breakfast, not looking at Malfoy.

He had already been up and somewhere else in the house when I had woken up that morning, and neither of us had spoken a word to the other as we sat down at the breakfast table. As far as I was concerned, he had made his opinion on me very clear, and there was no point in embarrassing myself further by giving him another chance to humiliate me.

"Is something wrong, Hermione?" Harry asked, having picked up on the tension.

Ron interrupted my answer. "I'll tell you what's wrong, she had to spend all day yesterday duelling _Malfoy_." He narrowed his eyes at the blond, "I say let me have a go at him today."

I shrugged. That worked fine for me, and I didn't really care if it worked for Malfoy, he could just deal with it.

* * *

Whimpering. It was happening again. Every night like clockwork Malfoy would start tossing and turning, making vulnerable and pain-filled sounds the entire time. The worst nights were the ones where he started talking, begging Voldemort to spare his mother.

"Not her, please!" he yelled, making me cringed further into my pillow.

I didn't go down to try and soothe or wake him, just as I hadn't any night for the past week. I hadn't even talked to him and avoided looking at him whenever possible.

Ignoring the huge _thing _between us had been a habit since third year when we discovered that we had known each other in a past life. It was working again in this instance, just the nature of the _thing _we were ignoring had shifted slightly. I was more torn up by his cruel rejection than I wanted to admit. I'd been starting to think of him as a different person than the horrible child who had made me miserable. That had been a mistake. In fact, I should have known better.

Clenching my teeth in annoyance, I rolled over and pulled a pillow over my head, determined to block out the sound of Malfoy. I would ward my room against sound, but even in a safe house we couldn't be completely sure that we wouldn't be attacked. It wasn't safe for me to sleep without being able to hear an attack should one occur.

I heard him gasp, the sound that usually signified that Malfoy had yanked himself from his dream and managed to wake up. Out of some childish urge, I kept myself perfectly still, not wanting to give away that I was awake with the sound of rustling sheets. I listened closely, hoping he was going to settle down and fall into a more restful sleep so that I could get some much needed rest as well.

"Granger?" he called in a croaky whisper.

I pursed my lips but didn't answer. _Now _he wanted comfort after he had told me that I was going to be the source of new nightmares? No. Not happening.

"I know you're awake up there," he tried.

Remaining completely motionless, I hoped that he'd go back to sleep. I knew that once he fell asleep again, he'd sleep peacefully until the morning when I could slip out of the room before he even showed signs of life.

The creaking of the stairs leading to my room made me tense, but I reminded myself that he didn't know I was awake, he'd been bluffing before. He had to have been bluffing; there was no possible way for him to know for certain whether I was asleep or awake.

I bristled slightly when his feet padded across my floor. Who did he think he was doing invading my privacy like that when he thought I was sleeping? He had yelled at me for doing the same thing, and I'd had good intentions behind my motives for being in his room, not whatever selfish motivations that had urged him into mine.

He sat on the edge of my bed, much the same way I had on his only a few nights ago. I let him, starting to get curious about what in the world he planned on doing now that he was in my room – not that I wanted him to kiss me again, that would be foolish after how it had ended last time.

"Granger," he said again, pulling the pillow off of my head. I let him take it, still resolutely pretending that I was asleep. I didn't want to deal with him.

He ran his hand down my hair, stopping when he reached the tips where they rested at the small of my back and leaving his hand there.

Against my wishes, my body was reacting to his touch. It wanted me to be closer to him, touching him again as I had before. All the hurt in the world wasn't enough to convince my body that Draco Malfoy wasn't what it wanted.

I forced myself to stay relaxed and not give away my conscious state by tensing. If he knew I was awake, he would probably take his hand away and despite all my protests, I enjoyed the warmth.

"I don't like not talking to you," he whispered. "I thought I could go back to the way we were before, when we insulted each other at every turn, but it didn't work."

His hand started stroking my hair again. A ball of some emotion welled up in my chest. I wasn't sure whether to scream at him, burst into tears, or just run away. Whatever it was, I just wanted it to disappear. Like Malfoy, I wanted to go back to the way we'd been when we were young, but unlike him, I wasn't naive enough to think it was possible. Too much had changed.

Eventually, my nerves calmed and the soothing motion of his stroking relaxed me. I managed what I had thought would be impossible and fell into a real sleep while he sat there with me.

* * *

When I woke up, Malfoy was still in my bed. His crumpled position against the headboard made it obvious that he hadn't intended to fall asleep that way.

I wiggled out from under the arm he had around my shoulders, ignoring the feeling of loss when I was no longer touching him. My stupid heart and body had no business feeling those things, and I was confident that, given enough time, I would be able to erase Malfoy from my system. It would be easier with more distance but I could manage it in the safe house. It would just be more difficult. I had to manage it; my sanity depended on it.

I slipped out of my room and down the stairs without waking Malfoy. His eyes immediately went to me when he came downstairs for breakfast, but I avoided his gaze. I ignored him just as I had been for the past week and intended to continue doing so until we were free of the bloody safe house.

That night, I conjured a cot and slept in Harry and Ron's room. They were happy that I'd finally come to my senses about Malfoy.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

**A/N: So this is the last of the chapters I had prewritten, you might have to wait a bit for the next one, since it's only about half written. Don't worry though, I **_**will**_** get it done!**

**Also, thanks to everyone who reviewed and to Irianaceleste for betaing.**

**~Frosty**

The sound of shouting outside made me look up from my book and glance out the window. Taking a break from the constant conflict that revolved around the boys, I was reading on the sofa, curled up so that one of the armrests elevated me enough to see out the window over my book.

When I saw what was making the noise outside, I smiled fondly. Harry and Ron were running around on the lawn, not caring that it was pouring rain or that they were getting soaked while they chucked globs of mud at each other. It was always nice to see Harry acting like the teenager he was instead of the "Chosen One" that he and most of the Wizarding world thought him to be.

"You can't ignore me forever," Malfoy said irritably.

Merlin he was quiet when he wanted to be! I jumped slightly at his voice, but I was pretty sure I'd managed to conceal the reaction enough that Malfoy hadn't noticed.

Like I'd been doing for the past several days, I tried to stand and leave the room without properly looking at him. Unfortunately, Malfoy had obviously planned for this, having learned of my reaction from past experiences. I found that he'd used some kind of sticking charm to keep my bottom stuck to the sofa.

Needless to say, I was _not _pleased. I shot him a glare. "I don't have to ignore you forever, just until we're out of this house. After that, I won't have to see you ever again."

If I wasn't talking to Draco Malfoy, I would have sworn there was a brief flash of hurt across his face before he recovered himself and hid once again behind his mask of blankness. But he had no business being hurt when he'd done much worse to me, so I dismissed it as wishful thinking on my part. Though it probably made me a bad person, I wanted to believe that I was capable of hurting him as much as he'd hurt me.

Of course, I was being an idiot; as if anything I could say would ever hurt him. He'd have to care in the first place for me to have an effect on him.

"Look, Granger," he snapped, "A condition of my switching sides was that you keep me company. I demand you keep up your side of the bargain."

I tilted up my chin and crossed my arms. "Or what, you'll switch back over to the other side?"

"I'd never go back to them," he hissed. "But you'd be reneging on a deal, meaning that you Gryffindors are not only annoying but also hypocrites. You insist Slytherins are ruthless and cunning, but you're obviously no better if you can't keep up your end of the bargain now that you're gotten what you wanted."

I'd never admit it to him, but he kind of had a point. In protecting myself from being hurt by him once more, I was actually going back on my word. Doing the right thing was going to have to take precedence over my feelings.

"Fine," I snapped. Not willing to actually invite him to join me, I just picked up my book and started reading once more. If he didn't understand the _very _reluctant invitation, then it was his own fault.

He sat down on the opposite end of the sofa. "Granger," he sighed, "This is hardly friendly behaviour."

"Harry and Ron are my friends," I said without looking up from the page, "And I read with them in the room all the time."

I had to duck my head behind my book to hide my smile at the frustrated growl he made. It was nice to know that I was able to break through that icy facade of his and anger him. His aloof act was crumbling before my very eyes, and I was pleased.

"We have_never_been friends in the same way that you're friends with those morons," he snapped.

I tore my eyes from the page to finally look at him, an accusing glare on my face. "And whose fault is that?"

"_Yours_," he spat. "If you hadn't kissed me back, we'd still be normal. I _told _you to just stay in your bed."

My eyes widened as my cheeks flushed with outrage. "You practically _attacked _me and now you have the nerve to try and blame me for the mess that resulted from it?"

I looked around for an object to chuck at him, but all I had was my book and there was no way I was going to throw that at him, he might keep it. He always managed to turn the situation around into his favour when we were arguing; it was frustrating.

"You didn't have to kiss me back. You could have just pushed me away."

"You don't just throw yourself at someone, literally drag them into your bed, and then get mad at that person for not _pushing you away_!" I tried to stand up, wanting to poke him in the chest while I yelled, possibly hit him, but I was still fused to the fabric. The little flail I did as I tried to stand made Malfoy smirk and only enraged me further.

He was so frustrating.

Increasing my ire, he seemed completely unaffected by my anger. Malfoy ignored my death glare and shifted a little closer to me, making sure to stay out of my striking zone in case I wanted to hit him – he was right, I so dearly wanted to smack the smirk right off of his face like I had when we were younger.

"Look, Granger-"

"What do you want from me?" I interrupted.

He blinked, caught off guard by my abrupt question. "I don't know what you mean."

I rolled my eyes, fed up with him. "We were something... more in our past lives. Is that what you want in this one, or did you just want to be friends? Because you're obviously having trouble pretending there's absolutely nothing between us and going back to being completely indifferent to each other."

His mouth opened as he tried to say something, but I interrupted him again. "If you say friends then fine, but you're _never _to try and kiss me again. We're friends and that's it."

Malfoy drew himself up and raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I'd ever want to kiss you again?"

I refused to let him hurt me again with that one kiss. "Nothing. I have no idea why you'd ever want to do it again, which should make it that much easier for you to refrain from doing it in the future."

I tried to stand again and found that I was no longer stuck to the sofa. Before he could realize that the sticking charm had worn off, I took a few steps away from him and the stupid sofa. I wasn't going to be trapped by the thing again.

"Now what is it you want?" I asked from the other side of the room, nice and far away from him. Just in case, I made sure my hand was on my wand to counteract any spells he may try to cast. I wasn't going to be caught unawares by a spell meant to stay against my will for a second time.

"Friends, I suppose," he said, watching me carefully as he advanced. He offered his hand to shake on the classification of our relationship.

Hesitantly, I shook it, on the lookout for any funny business.

* * *

"Granger, watch out!" Malfoy shouted as a curse he had fired at Harry went wide and headed straight towards me. I didn't have time to duck out of the way before the bright bolt of blood red collided with me and knocked me to the ground.

Like a fish out of water I gasped a few times, trying to gain my breath as the pain I was suffering really started to hit me. And it hit with a vengeance.

"What the hell did you shoot at her?" I heard Harry demand. His voice had an odd, distant quality, like I was removed from reality or listening to them from under water, separated from the world by my own personal bubble.

"I wasn't shooting at _her_, Potter," Malfoy hissed. "I was firing at you. Would have hit you too if you hadn't jumped out of the way at the last minute."

"What are we supposed to do?" Ron asked, sounding panicked.

Malfoy murmured a levitating spell and directed me into the house. The weightlessness of the levitation spell furthered the strange disconnect I felt from the world and made me feel even more disoriented.

Floating through the air, I noted that I was actually disappointed to be away from the cool grass. Everything was too hot and the lush greenness had seeped into my skin and lowered my temperature minutely. I wanted to be back on the ground.

I tried to voice this, but all that came out was a strangled gasping sound. Ron had run back to get my wand from where it had fallen on the grass and Harry was holding open the door, so it was Malfoy who placed a soothing hand on my side.

"You're not going to die, Granger," he whispered. "This is just going to hurt like hell for a couple hours."

Just wonderful. Of course Malfoy would use something that would cause so much pain. At least I knew there was an end to the agony in sight – though I didn't doubt that every moment was going to feel like an eternity.

I was jostled when Malfoy lowered me onto the sofa and it sent needles of pain stabbing over all of my nerves as if a swarm of bees had descended upon me. Jostling me certainly made the pain worse. I made a pathetic gargle-whimper against my will.

Malfoy was right there, his nose nearly brushing mine. "Listen to me, Granger," he said fiercely. "This is going to hurt, but I need you to trust me. You're going to be fine."

I wasn't really able to speak, but I tried to convey with my eyes that I trusted him – and that I was going to kill him when this was all over for putting me through something so horrible. Even worse, he had knowingly tried to use the curse on Harry. I was definitely going to have some words with him about that.

"Sorry," Malfoy whispered almost against my ear.

When he stepped back and pointed his wand at me, I closed my eyes and braced myself. I knew he wasn't going to kill me, but I had no doubt that whatever he was about to do was going to hurt like hell if he was remorseful enough to be apologising before doing it.

A wave of white-hot agony so severe that it fluctuated from hot to cold hit me immediately. I couldn't feel it over the pain, but I later found out that my back arched off of the sofa at an unusual angle and I screamed at the top of my lungs, greatly disturbing Harry and Ron. It was lucky that they believed Malfoy to be helping me, or they would have rushed in to stop him from healing me.

The pain seemed to last an infinity before everything went black and I fell into blissful unconsciousness.

* * *

I didn't hurt anymore. The first relieved thought that jolted through my frazzled and groggy mind was that I was no longer in pain. I next noticed that my tongue felt swollen to three times its usual size and that my mouth tasted like something unpleasantly furry had been living in there for a while.

When I opened my eyes, I saw that Harry was sleeping at the foot of my bed. Even in slumber he looked completely run down.

"Harry?" I asked, surprised when I found that my voice was croaky and my throat was sore. I cleared my throat painfully and tried again. My words were still scratchy, but they were louder.

"Hermione?" he asked, jumping up and grabbing my hand. "Are you okay?"

I rubbed my shoulder where the curse had hit. It was slightly stiff, but otherwise, there was no sign of the horrible pain I'd been experiencing before. It seemed that I was going to make a full recovery. Still, I wanted to know what the hell Malfoy thought he'd been doing in using such a horrible curse against my friend.

"I'm fine. Why was Malfoy firing such terrible curses at you?" I asked. I knew that while he'd been duelling me and Ron, Malfoy had used curses that wouldn't do much harm, just as we'd done against him, but the one that had hit me had been truly horrible. I hadn't felt so much pain before in my entire life.

"I may have made a few shots about his mother and then called him a coward for holding back in his duelling. I wanted to see how powerful he was," Harry said bashfully.

I swatted him on the back of the head for being an idiot. Of _course _Malfoy would be sensitive to remarks about his mother, Harry was lucky it hadn't been the Killing Curse that Malfoy had been using.

"Speaking of Malfoy," Harry said with a strange look on his face, "He was actually _shaking _when he cast the counter curse. I've never seen him so pale. He hasn't been able to so much as _look _at you since he healed you."

He watched me intently as his words sunk in. Was Harry expecting some sort of major reaction from me? I would have been in a similar state if I had hit someone with the curse as well. Malfoy, idiot that he is, probably cast the curse out of anger, counting on Harry dodging it. Knowing that Malfoy cared enough to be torn up about my injury was still a nice thought though.

"He's not the monster you think he is," I said, "And you shouldn't keep pushing him and then acting surprised when he fights back."

Harry muttered something that I was sure wasn't complimentary to Malfoy, but I ignored it.

"Help me downstairs, I feel like it's been a month since I last had something to eat." My brow furrowed as I tried to get up and realized how stiff I was. "How long was I unconscious?"

"Three days," Harry said. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and helped me lift myself from the bed. I was a little shaky, but otherwise my limbs held me.

Ron and Malfoy were sitting at the kitchen table in complete silence, not eating the plates of unidentifiable brown mush in front of them. My guess was that one of them had tried to cook while I'd been unconscious and Harry had been in the room with me. I was betting that it was Ron since Malfoy had improved considerably with some tutoring from me.

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed when he saw me. "You're awake!" He leapt from his chair and rushed over, only to pause right in front of me, unsure.

Laughing at his childish enthusiasm, I wrapped him in a hug, letting go quickly so the moment didn't become uncomfortable. Malfoy wasn't at the table when I looked over to see if he was glad I was awake as well. I glanced at Harry in confusion and he shrugged, pointing to the door.

Apparently the blond's avoidance of me extended past my period of unconsciousness. Who knew how long it would be before he was willing to look at me once more. He probably thought I was going to blame him for the whole incident.

I settled down at the table and let Ron ladle some of the brown slop onto a plate for me. Faking a smile, I choked some of it down, making a mental note to at least teach him to make scrambled eggs or something before I let him anywhere _near _the kitchen unsupervised. I couldn't even begin to guess what in the world I was eating.

* * *

Malfoy was on my bed. Asleep.

I'd assumed he'd stormed off to pout in his own bed, not mine. Disbelief had actually frozen me to the spot upon discovering him. I was stuck there until he shifted slightly and I was able to shake off the strangeness of the situation and react.

"Malfoy," I said, poking his shoulder. I still remembered his habit of pulling me into bed with him and was ready for any such action.

"Leave me alone, Granger," he mumbled. "I haven't slept since I hit you with that spell and I desperately need it."

I blinked a few times. He hadn't slept for _days_? Was he that torn up by guilt? More importantly, though…

"Why my bed?" I asked.

"Keep picturing you up here, unconscious when I try to sleep in mine." His eyes were drifting shut again even as he spoke. He was obviously completely knackered and only holding on to consciousness by a tenuous grasp.

That was kind of sweet of him. I lowered myself to the edge of my bed.

"I don't blame you for the spell; it was an accident," I said, braced for his reaction. I wasn't sure how he was going to take the proclamation; it was possible that he would blow up at me.

Luckily, he was too tired. "Stop that, Granger. I shouldn't have used such a dark spell and you know it."

"You're taking up the whole bed," I complained. Despite all the time I'd spent unconscious, I found myself very tired, wanting nothing more than to curl up and nap. Unfortunately, there wasn't really enough room for me with Malfoy taking up so much space.

He wiggled until there was enough room for me beside him and then looked up at me expectantly.

"Malfoy..."

"Shut up, Granger," he interrupted. "We're both too tired and irritated to have this fight right now. I'm not leaving and the both of us will fit here just fine if we squeeze a little bit, so climb in so we can both get some sleep."

He was right; I was too tired to properly yell at him. I'd be able to properly scold him later when we were both well-rested. Awkwardly, I slid under his raised arm and settled into the bed, trying to touch him as little as possible.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

**A/N: Hello readers! I'm really sorry about the delay. I just wasn't in the mood to write, then had a bit of a family tragedy and haven't been in much of a mood to write since... I've got a bit of the next chapter written and will try to keep the wait relatively short.**

**As always, thanks to irianaceleste for betaing and to all the wonderful people who reviewed!**

**~Frosty**

I woke up before Malfoy and found that overnight, he'd wrapped his arms around me. Apparently in my sleep, I appreciated the closeness and snuggled up against him. If I hadn't been so mortified, I would have noticed that I fit very well in his arm; it felt right to be there.

I deliberately ignored any implications of my sleeping actions may have held. There was a war looming over us, I didn't have time to give myself an ulcer over the status of my relationship with Malfoy, especially immediately upon waking.

Trying not to wake the sleeping blond, I carefully untangled our limbs and wiggled away from him.

My efforts to keep him from waking were in vain; by the time I'd extracted myself and glanced up at him, his grey eyes were already staring at me. I couldn't tell what he was thinking behind the fog of sleep clouding his eyes, but I had a feeling he was alternating between amused and wary.

"I'm in your bed," he observed.

Frowning at him, I nodded.

He sighed gustily, making my hair sway with the force of the air even from where I was perched on the edge of the mattress. "We're going to have that fight now. Aren't we?"

I raised an eyebrow and opened my mouth to scold him. The things I had refrained from saying to him the night before because I'd been just too tired to argue were suddenly back in the forefront of my mind. Not only had he invaded my personal space by sneaking into my bed, but he had basically told me to shut up and go to sleep. I started to bristle just thinking about all the things he had done to irritate me.

Malfoy quickly sat up and pressed a finger against my mouth to still my lips.

"First," he said, "There's something I really need to do."

Since he was still squishing my mouth I didn't bother to try and question him because I knew he wasn't going to let me get the words out around his fingers. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me back to the mattress and burying his nose against my neck. "I would never have forgiven myself if you'd died," he said, his breath raising goose bumps on my skin.

Completely against my will, my eyes fluttered shut in pleasure. Part of me was wondering who in the world had given Malfoy a personality transplant, but the rest of me melted and was unconcerned. It took me a moment to regain my composure.

"I thought I was just a dirty Mudblood," I shoved him away and moved off of the bed. Instead, I perched on the window seat, a safe distance away. I seemed to do that a lot - putting space between me and him.

He didn't seem upset by my rejection. "I realized something important while you were unconscious. Magic comes from the soul, not the body. How else would Lisette's soul end up in someone of Muggle origins and then that person turn out a witch – I think it should either be reworded so it's less wordy or switched to Muggleborn?"

My eyebrows drew together as he spoke; I wasn't sure if this was a step forward for him or a step backwards. If I understood correctly, he still thought Muggles to be below him, but anyone with magic should be considered equal. At least he wasn't calling me a Mudblood anymore.

"So you're over your prejudice against Muggles?" I asked just to clarify. Hey, a girl could hope, right?

He shrugged. "Not really, I've yet to meet a Muggle I like. But I don't believe that you're inferior because of your blood anymore."

Suspiciously, I narrowed my eyes at him. He was Slytherin to the core and I didn't trust his sudden change of heart any further than I would have been able to throw him – which wasn't far. Then I remembered Harry's face as he'd told me that Malfoy had actually been shaking as he cast the counter curse on me. Harry had been genuinely bewildered by how it was that Malfoy had cared so much about what happened to me. Maybe Malfoy _was_ being genuine.

It was – of course – also possible that Malfoy was just human and didn't want to have the death of someone he sort of knew from school and had once known very well in a past life, on his hands. I chose to push this option aside in favour of the whole being genuine thing. That was the more appealing option anyway.

"Like anyone else," he added, blank-faced, "You're inferior because no mere mortal can hope to reach my level of greatness."

I blinked, startled.

"Did you just tell a self-depreciating joke?"

Tilting his head slightly, Malfoy appeared to contemplate my question. "You know, I believe I may have."

"This is strange," I muttered, my bed suddenly feeling so much smaller and him suddenly infinitely closer to me. Was it getting warmer? I had to fight off the urge to start fidgeting.

He nodded, completely in agreement. "I'm just going to go."

Relieved that the awkwardness that was our interaction was going to end, I stared out the window as I waited for him to leave. For some reason, I felt that if I didn't have to watch him leave, it wouldn't affect me at all. I had the strange feeling that his leaving meant more than the simple act of exiting a room.

Since it was still early and he had days of sleep to catch up on, Malfoy climbed down the stairs only to crawl into his own bed. I listed to the rustling of his blankets as he attempted to get comfortable.

"Malfoy?" I called when he'd stopped shuffling.

"What?"

"If you _ever _aim such a horrible spell at me or my friends again, I'll make sure you don't live to see the next day."

He grunted to show that he'd heard and everything seemed to snap back into normalcy.

* * *

"Maybe you should take a little break from the duelling, Hermione," Ron said hesitantly. I was glad that he seemed so reluctant to voice his concern to me; it showed that he knew I was going to bite his head off for trying to coddle me. I wasn't, however, pleased in the least about his concerns.

I crossed my arms. "I appreciate the concern, but I've been perfectly fine for two whole days and if I 'take it easy' any longer, I may end up stabbing someone." My eyes perused him, making it clear that I was looking for the best place to start with the stabbing.

Ron glanced over to Harry and Malfoy, his overly-pale face made starker by the red hair above it as he obviously begged for backup. The pair didn't notice. They were engaged in a fierce duel – one that didn't involve any spells that could do permanent or painful damage.

"They're not going to help you," I said irritably, "Now raise your wand and let's start practicing."

With much grumbling, Ron did as I asked and assumed a duelling position. We were just about to commence with our duel when we were interrupted.

"Should you be casting spells so soon after recovering, Granger?" Malfoy called, pausing in his battle against Harry.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, asking for patience. I was feeling completely fine! It wasn't like I was an invalid or something, just lying around demanding that the boys to bring me bonbons and smooth the sharp corners off of everything so I didn't accidentally fall and get a bruise.

My wand was raised, ready to teach them all just how fine I was when I noticed something approaching from the sky.

"Is that Fawkes?" I asked, my wand forgotten at my side. We all turned to squint at the small red dot in the distance, rapidly getting larger. It was indeed Fawkes.

Stabs of worry immediately made themselves known in my stomach, and I could tell from Harry's expression that he was thinking the same thing. Malfoy was harder to read and Ron was still squinting to make sure that it was the phoenix approaching, but I was sure they were experiencing the same unpleasant phenomena in their guts. Dumbledore would only risk giving away Harry's location in such a way if something was horribly wrong.

The large red bird called a musical greeting as he landed on the arm Harry extended for him. Reluctantly, Harry took the letter that had been tied to Fawke's leg, but he didn't open it, instead staring at the parchment with worry. I didn't blame him; I was reluctant to find out what that parchment said as well. Whatever was written there, it was almost definitely going to shatter what little peace we'd managed to establish within the safe house over the last few days.

Harry met my eyes, his apprehension clear. All our minds had immediately jumped to the worst possible thing that parchment could include and by putting off actually reading it, it was like the horrible thing contained within it had yet to happen. It was a childish notion, similar to hiding under the blankets as protection from monsters. Like all childish beliefs, this one needed to be overcome.

I gave him a tiny nod, telling him that I was there for him no matter what the letter said. He repeated the same process with Ron, needing the reassurance of his friends before whatever hell contained in those pages broke loose.

"Stop being a daft coward and open the bloody letter," Malfoy snapped after a moment, seemingly bored with the proceedings.

I turned to give him a sharp look, but it softened when I saw that he was just as nervous as we were. He appeared cool and composed, but there were lines around his eyes that I knew signified severe apprehension. His attempt to hide his worry behind snappishness was transparent – at least to me. I had a feeling Harry and Ron just thought he was being an unfeeling git.

With one last fortifying breath, Harry opened the letter and scanned it, growing pale.

"Children," he read, "The Order has managed to destroy all but one of the Horcruxes. Unfortunately, this means that the time for our final standoff approaches. I will be there to bring you back to headquarters at midnight tonight."

We were all pale by the time Harry finished the letter; the reality that was the war was once again encroaching on us.

"There's some more after that, but it's directed at me," Harry continued, looking haunted. I really wanted to know what the letter said, but he wasn't going to tell me in front of Malfoy, so I was going to have to find out later.

"We knew this was going to happen eventually," I said, trying for upbeat. Malfoy made a disgusted noise and stalked off towards the house.

"What's with him?" Ron asked.

"Think about it Ron," I sighed, "He's almost as high on the Dark Lord's enemy list as Harry is, not to mention it's not widely known that he defected and joined our side. Essentially, leaving here means that Malfoy has more people against him than anyone else. Both sides will be out to get him."

"We're all going to be facing death," Ron grumbled, "He doesn't have to be a big baby about it."

I rolled my eyes at them and headed off towards the house. I was betting that I was the only one who was going to think of dinner while everyone was so frazzled. Besides, tinkering around in the kitchen was soothing.

* * *

Plate in hand, I climbed the stairs looking for Malfoy. He hadn't made an appearance at dinner and I was a tad concerned about his mental state.

Even though his room was technically mine as well, I knocked before I entered, wanting to be polite. If he told me to go away and leave him to whatever ruminations had kept him from the delicious food I had made for dinner, then I would have left him to it.

At least this was what I told myself.

"You don't need to knock, Granger," he called. "You're the only one who would bother and coincidentally, the only one I might actually allow to enter."

Rolling my eyes at him and his assumptions – never mind that they were correct assumptions – I pushed open the door and entered.

The room was completely dark, only the little light provided by the sliver of moon outside illuminating the hunched form sitting on the bed. I hesitated momentarily before setting the plate down on his bureau and lowering myself down on the bed beside Malfoy.

"Getting some... packing done?" I asked. "In the dark?"

His eyes slid to me, glaring out of the corners of his vision.

"I don't have enough possessions to take more than a quick wave of my wand and a few seconds to pack them." There was bitterness in his voice. For someone who had been raised with so many possessions, it was probably really strange to suddenly find himself destitute, relying on the kindness of others for the roof over his head and the food on his plate.

Fine. I was done trying to talk about something other than the impending battle looming over our heads. Apparently he wasn't in the mood for distractions, so I opted for a more direct approach.

"You're not the only one about to risk your life," I snapped at him.

"No, but I'm one of the few with so little left to live for."

It was horrible to see him looking so defeated. Someone so proud wasn't supposed to just _give up _like that. From somewhere in the vicinity of my heart I experienced a pang of sympathetic pain. I needed to get him out of this melancholy of his; going into battle with nothing to live for was _not _the way to survive a war. A very small part of me wanted to tell him that he had _me _to live for, but I quickly squashed that notion; I wasn't that cheesy. No, I was definitely going to have to find some alternative way of bringing the normal, arrogant git Malfoy back.

Before I had properly thought out my actions, I had stepped forward and slapped him.

For a moment after the impact, both Malfoy and I just staring at each other in shock, neither of us able to believe what I had just done. My hand tingling and the slight reddening of his cheek were the only reason I was able to believe my actions.

That disbelief ended the second Malfoy blinked and regained his bearings. He grabbed my wrist, twisted his body and threw me to the bed, trapping me underneath him with my hands pinned on either side of my head.

"_No one _gets to raise their hand against me. Not even you, Granger," he growled.

I wasn't afraid of Malfoy, even at his most threatening, but I certainly wasn't supposed to be _attracted _to him and his low growl. I was sure that wasn't what he had been thinking when throwing me to the bed, yet there I was, trapped in an incredibly compromising position and not able to think of near as many objections as I should have.

Having noticed that I wasn't sufficiently cowed by his attempt at intimidation, Malfoy squeezed my wrists – not hard enough to injure me, but enough to get my wandering mind back on track.

"Everyone has something to live for," I said. "Don't disregard your mother's memory by saying stupid things like that."

His upper lip curled into a slight sneer. "I'll stop if you give me your word that you're never going to spew such trite, cheesy bullshit at me ever again. We both know it's completely meaningless."

Despite the sneer, I was slightly drawn to those lips of his. My eyes were glued to them and my response was delayed because of the distraction.

Malfoy noticed where my attention lay.

In an echo of my actions, his eyes flicked down to my lips and then back up to meet my gaze. "Am I still forbidden to kiss you?" he asked.

There were scant centimetres between us and suddenly, all the air in the room was gone. Where could the air have gone? I really needed it so that my brain would have enough oxygen to remember why this was a bad idea. It was having trouble doing that at the moment.

I had to search a moment before finding my voice. "You were never forbidden to kiss me; you chose friends and everything that entails – completely platonic friends."

His gaze searched my face, looking for even the slightest twitch of uncertainty in me. There wasn't any; I was telling the truth.

When his eyes filled with something that the swoop in my stomach told me was desire, I started to get worried – not because I was afraid that he was going to force himself on me, but because I was terrified that I would be a willing participant in whatever he had planned.

Malfoy lowered his head, nose brushing against my jaw as his lips made their way to my ear. He was so very close and solid and warm. There was no way to stop my body's reaction to his presence. I was acutely aware that he could hear my increased heart rate and breathing. My only consolation was that I could also hear the same reaction in him.

"We're going off to war," he whispered, making me shiver at the closeness of his lips and the tickling of his breath. He noticed the shiver. I could hear the resulting smirk in his voice when he continued. "There's a good chance one or both of us are going to die. Are you really going to deny me – us – this one little recession to an otherwise stringent no intimate touching ban when it could provide the both of us with the distraction we so desperately need?"

I didn't know what he considered intimate touching, but the way he was pressed against me down my entire body was certainly intimate in my book. More of the same would certainly only make me feel better and there _was _quite a bit of time before Dumbledore would make an appearance. Without a distraction, we'd only be sitting ducks, waiting for him to bring us to what may just be our doom.

"I am," I told him, my voice not near as firm as I wanted.

"Even if we do survive, it's unlikely that we're going to see each other again in anything even resembling a social context," he tried again. So quickly I almost didn't feel it, he pressed a little kiss to my ear lobe. The small action lit sparks right down my neck that morphed into a pleasurable shiver down my spine.

More than how that little kiss made me feel, it was the genuine regret I heard in that statement that made me give in.

"Malfoy."

He gave my ear a nip and then pulled back to so he could see me. It was clear that he fully expected me to reject him again. Unfortunately, I didn't seem to have that much sense. In fact, after he nipped my ear, I barely had a coherent thought.

"Kiss me," I whispered, barely able to get the words out before his lips attacked mine.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 17.5**

**A/N: This isn't the whole chapter, but it's the rest of the scene from the end of the previous chapter. I've been focusing on another story that I haven't started posting yet and just haven't been able to work on this one. It might be a while before I come up with another update for this story, so I'm giving you guys the little bit I did have written. I didn't want to leave you guys with such a cliff hanger.**

**Thanks to all the wonderful people who reviewed, and to irianaceleste for betaing.**

**Once again, sorry about the wait, both before this chapter and for the one that will follow it.**

**~Frosty**

I wiggled underneath Malfoy's weight, wanting to touch him, but unable to move my hands. His grip held firm, keeping my hands trapped on either side of my head. Instead, I arched my back so that I could at least be that much closer to him. If he wasn't going to let my hands free, I needed to be touching him somehow.

Even when we'd hated each other, there had been this draw between us. The moment Malfoy's lips had touched mine, that draw had intensified to a nearly unbearable desire to be as close to him as physically possible. If the ferocity of his return kiss was any indication, Malfoy was feeling the exact same thing. Knowing this, I couldn't understand his reluctance to release my hands.

I tried to make my displeasure over this known, but it backfired when Malfoy interpreted my wiggling to free my hands as an attempt to escape. He unglued his mouth from mine and pushed himself up a little to better see my face with glassy, confused eyes.

"Let go of my hands," I ordered. It wasn't until the words were out of my mouth that I realized they could be confused as an order to allow me to escape. Luckily, Malfoy seemed to know that escaping was one of the last things on my mind.

He shook his head. "Things are going to rapidly get out of control if I do that."

It was a sad, sad day when Malfoy was my voice of reason. He was right; this was neither the time nor the place for what we'd done, what we'd been about to do. Those sinful lips of his were wreaking havoc on my thought processes.

"Let me up," I said, needing to put space between us while I was still reasonable. My body and its traitorous hormones were screaming at me to tell him that I _wanted _things to get out of control [but] I wasn't about to let my hormones have their way.

Something in my eyes must have told him that I was serious this time. He immediately did as I asked and got off of me. He didn't go far though, only moving to sit back on his heels, still towering over where I lay.

"Still feeling like a platonic friend?" he asked.

"Normal friends do _not _do things like that."

Malfoy was completely un-phased by this admission. I had essentially admitted that we didn't have the platonic relationship that we pretended to.

"With a past like ours, we're hardly normal friends."

He was right, but now really wasn't the time to be having _that _discussion. I wasn't sure if I would ever be ready for that particular conversation.

Our recent activities had lent some colour to Malfoy's usually pale face. It made him look much more human instead of like a stoic statue. Instead of taking away from his attraction, it made it that much harder to keep my hands to myself.

The tension between us increased as neither of us said anything and fought off the desire to regain our earlier position.

"Never would I have thought being trapped in a house with the Golden Trio would actually be _appealing _in any context," he said, not quite looking at me, "But I'm finding myself reluctant to leave."

"I think that has more to do with where we're going once we leave the safety of this house rather than a reflection of your time here."

I sighed, leaning my elbows down on my knees. I knew it was stupid, but I kind of wanted to hide in Malfoy's room until Dumbledore came to get us. Like a scared little mouse hiding under a cabinet, I wanted to stay sheltered from the rest of the world for as long as possible.

"It's not like we haven't died before," I mumbled in an attempt to reassure myself.

His lips turned up the barest hint at the corners; there was no actual amusement in the expression. "I can't remember it, but I highly doubt that it was a pleasant experience."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 18**

**A/N: Hello readers! Yes, I am BACK! I have chapter 19 written as well, so it shouldn't be much of a wait. I'm determined to finish this story before Valentine's day... **

**For those of you waiting for the prequel chapter of The Case of the Creature Kidnappings, I'm almost finished writing it, it should be up before the new year.**

**Thanks for your patience and to everyone who reviewed! Also thanks to irianaceleste for betaing.**

**Okay! I've also written an original story if you guys are interested, you can read the first bit of chapter on in my profile page, or you could just read the whole chapter (and hopefully leave me a review to tell me about it) at www. fictionpress s /3081934 /1 / Plain-Jane (without the spaces).**

**~Frosty**

"Where were you?" Ron asked suspiciously when I finally came down the stairs to join them in the sitting room. Figuring that my friends would be in almost as much danger as Malfoy, I had left him on his bed.

He hadn't let me leave before imparting some wisdom though. "Find out the rest of that letter," he'd said, grimly meeting my eyes to ensure that I was listening before continuing, "I may not like Potter, but I've spent enough time watching him for weaknesses to know that something written there has him rattled more than the situation warranted – which is actually a feat." I'd given him a weak nod before continuing out the door.

"I was packing my bag," I said to Ron. It wasn't a lie; at one point I _had _rushed up to my room to pack my bag. Ron didn't need to know that the rest of the time had been spent getting _very _close with Malfoy.

Luckily, Ron seemed to accept this without much fuss. I was lucky that he had so many other things on his mind, or he may have noticed that my hair was in a worse state than usual and my lips were a few shades darker than they should be, as well as puffier.

Harry was sitting close to the fire, oddly silent as he watched the flames. I knew my friend was prone to broody silences, but I could tell that this was something else. Malfoy had been right; something was bothering him beyond what he'd read out loud warranted.

"What was it that the letter said?" I asked, staring hard at Harry to catch any guilty reaction.

Ron's gaze darted between the two of us, confused, as Harry looked away from the fire to regard me with a falsely confused expression.

"What are you talking about, Hermione?" Harry asked. "It was nothing important."

My voice was as dry as sandpaper when I answered. "So Dumbledore just took a few moments away from the preparations for battle to exchange pleasantries?"

"Just drop it, Hermione!"

I was startled by the vehemence in his voice. Harry didn't usually get so sharp with his friends without reason. Instead of backing off like Harry had intended, his strong reaction only made me more eager to find out what he was hiding. I knew I was on to something.

Grabbing my wand and casting a quick summoning spell on the letter was an option that was rapidly becoming more and more appealing as he continued to refuse me the information I wanted. That, however, would be a huge invasion of Harry's privacy and something I just wouldn't do. This didn't mean that I wasn't above pestering him relentlessly until he divulged his secret.

"I will not drop it!" I snapped at him. "Whatever it was has put you more on edge than I would expect from you in this situation – and that's saying something, since we're about to head off to war." He was starting to bristle at my tone, so I got to the point quickly. "We've been through so much together, so I can only imagine what's got you so worried. Harry, we're here for you," I said, giving Ron a look that started him nodding eagerly while attempting a sincere expression on his face.

All the tension melted from Harry's shoulders as he sagged back against his chair. "Fine," he sighed.

I was triumphant, but not because I had successfully manipulated him. My motives had been purely for his benefit. Why should he have to bear his burden alone?

"Harry?" Ron asked when it became clear that our friend was going to need the little nudge to get him started talking. Something about sharing upsetting news just went against Harry's nature. He was the type to try and shoulder every burden by himself, leaving everyone else to flutter uselessly along the sidelines and hope he didn't die.

"When I was a baby and survived the killing curse, Dumbledore thinks that a piece of Voldemort's soul ended up in me," Harry started, causing Ron and I to pale. We both could guess where this was going. I may have even swayed a little from shock. Never again was I going to mock those women in books who fainted when receiving bad news... Okay, maybe I'd mock them a little.

"You're a Horcrux," I whispered. Harry was obviously struggling to tell us, so I assisted him.

Harry nodded. "I have to die before Voldemort can."

I happened to glance towards the stairs then and noticed that Malfoy was there. Somehow I wasn't surprised in the least. His eyes didn't hold the gloating expression I half expected them to, instead he was gazing at me with a sympathetic expression. There may have even been a little compassion for Harry mixed in there.

Seeing my gaze diverted, Ron glanced behind me to see what I was looking at. His face started to redden as soon as he saw Malfoy and I knew immediately that the situation was going to get rapidly out of hand if I didn't manage to diffuse the situation. Ron was the king of misplaced anger, and he'd had quite a bit of horrible news dumped on his shoulders only seconds ago.

"The bloody git was listening in on our conversation!" Ron shouted as he rose from his seat. His wand was drawn before he was even standing. I would have been impressed with the quick draw if I hadn't been so worried about the upcoming confrontation.

I gave Malfoy a look that clearly warned him that he was going to lose certain parts of his anatomy that were very important to him if he even thought about saying something to provoke my distraught friend. It made me proud to notice that, while he was ready with his wand at his side, Malfoy didn't make a move that could be interpreted as an openly offensive gesture at Ron.

Too fast for me to be able to intervene, Ron launched himself at Malfoy, casting spells as he went. Draco seemed perfectly able to block the spells, but when Ron threw away his wand and punched him in the eye, Draco was at a loss for long enough that Ron gained the upper hand.

"Stop it!" I screeched at them as I rushed over there. After a moment of uselessly fluttering my hands and trying to figure out how to pull Ron off of Malfoy, I realized that I was a witch, and as such, perfectly capable of moving them. A quick spell had them separated and me firmly in between the two. I didn't silence them though, something that I quickly started to regret as they commenced yelling at each other. Malfoy was understandably upset that Ron had attacked him and Ron was still blaming the blond for everything that was currently wrong in his world. Naturally I raised my voice to try and talk some sense into them.

"STOP!" Harry shouted, silencing the room. "I'm the one who has to die. If any of us are going to have some sort of breakdown, it's going to be me!"

I had a feeling that Harry's breakdown may have already begun.

He opened his mouth as if to say something else, shut it with a snap, and stormed out of the room without saying anything further. I almost wished he would have spent a little more time yelling so I wouldn't feel so guilty for ignoring Harry's turmoil while I focused on Draco and Ron. Sure, I'd been keeping them from killing each other, but in the process of doing this, I'd completely neglected the emotional well-being of my friend.

I released Malfoy and Ron from the spell keeping them in place, giving them a positively corrosive look of warning. If either of them made a commotion while I was speaking to Harry, I would personally see to it that they would never be able to speak again.

Harry was sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands when I found him. He didn't look up when I entered the room. "Don't even try to tell me things are going to work out, Hermione. Nothing's going to be okay."

I sighed, sitting beside him and wrapping and arm around his shoulders. "I know, Harry. But we're in this together. We'll be with you until the end."

Harry didn't seem all that comforted by this idea, probably not liking that we were all going to be in danger with him, but he didn't say anything. If I had to guess, I would say he was working on plans to escape us and keep us safe even while he was panicking about his own demise.

I squeezed him tighter, wishing that I could protect him from his fate and knowing I wouldn't be able to.

* * *

By the time Dumbledore came to gather us from the safe house, we – mostly the boys – had exhausted ourselves with our bickering and were sitting together in the main room in something close to complacent silence. Considering who we were, this was as close to inter-house unity as we would ever get.

For once, there was no twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes, not even when faced with what not so long ago would have been a stunning example of inter-house unity. This just showed us how serious the moment was, strengthening the somber mood that hung over the house.

None of us were ready, but we all knew that the war wasn't going to wait for us. Harry and Ron were too busy being wrapped up in their own worries to notice that I grabbed Malfoy's hand as we approached the door. After a quick, startled glance back at me, Malfoy squeezed my fingers and led the way after Dumbledore.

Time seemed to slow down as we silently filed after Dumbledore towards the Portkey that was waiting for us on the front lawn. I had time to spare a sad glance back towards the safe house, knowing that, despite the horribleness of waiting for war there, I was going to miss the somewhat good times that we'd all had within those walls.

"The younger years have been evacuated," Dumbledore explained as we walked across the grass. "Only those who were willing and deemed able to fight are currently in the castle."

He was looking older and frailer than I remembered. There had been the slightest hint of his familiar twinkle in his eyes when he noticed how I was clutching Malfoy's hand for reassurance, but that had quickly faded under the weight of the approaching battle.

The Portkey was an old sock that was moist from resting on the damp grass. I really didn't want to touch it and, through our still connected hands, actually felt Malfoy rear back a bit in revulsion. I squeezed his fingers, mostly as a warning that he wasn't to say anything and just take the sock. I was standing close enough to Malfoy that I felt his shudder of revulsion at touching the sock and shot him an amused look that he returned with a glare.

My stomach lurched as the Portkey activated and I clutched Malfoy's hand harder.

We landed in front of Hogwarts and quickly made out way into the entrance hall.

If time slowed while we were walking towards the Portkey, it snapped back into place like a giant rubber band as soon as we arrived back at Hogwarts, making up for the lagging seconds of earlier.

"Everyone who is going to be here for the battle is gathered in the Great Hall," Dumbledore said. "If you'll excuse me, I have things to attend to."

Malfoy shook my hand from his as Harry pushed open the doors to the great hall. I didn't blame him really; he didn't want the Order's first impression of him after changing sides to be one of him clinging to me like a safety blanket.

At first, everyone was too busy rejoicing at seeing Ron, Harry, and I to notice that Draco was in our little group. Mrs. Weasley was the first to notice. She'd been in the midst of hugging me and had actually jerked me away from where Malfoy was standing at my side.

"What is _he _doing here?" she screeched, drawing her wand. Immediately, there were upwards of fifty wands pointed at Malfoy.

To his credit, he didn't cower, cringe, or even draw his own wand. Malfoy just stood there and raised his eyebrow. Harry and Ron seemed to be enjoying the idea that Malfoy was going to get hexed and didn't seem in the least inclined to defend him. Apparently that was going to be my responsibility.

I gently pulled my arm from Mrs. Weasley's protective grasp and moved to put myself between Malfoy and all of the wands pointed at him. I could sense his displeasure at having to hide behind me, but he was practical enough to understand that no one would hex me just because I was protecting him, something that Voldemort's side certainly couldn't boast.

I was used to people looking at me like I was an annoyance when I was always raising my hand in class, eager to show my knowledge, but I wasn't used to the people I thought about as a second family looking at me with growing mistrust. It was very uncomfortable.

"He's on our side," I said. If this was how Draco felt all the time when facing Gryffindors, he was much braver than I'd thought for joining the Order.

"Hermione, dear, how do you know that he's not fooling you?" Mrs. Weasley asked. I could tell from her tone that she thought I was just being a silly girl who had been fooled by a pretty face. I didn't appreciate her insinuation. Never would I allow my hormones to put the Order's security and nearly everyone I cared about at risk. I was just getting ready to defend myself when Malfoy poked me between my shoulder blades. I glanced back at him in confusion, but he wasn't looking at me, he was staring towards Mrs. Weasley.

"Do you really think that Granger would risk all of you because of hormones?" I couldn't see him, but I knew he was looking directly at Mrs. Weasley when he added, "Just because _some _of you seem so eager to jump to such conclusions – probably because this is what you yourself would do in the same situation – doesn't mean that Granger would do the same."

I took a step back so that I was pressed right against Malfoy when Molly made a squawk of indignation. Even the smallest space between us would be like inviting an attack, either from the woman herself or from her many offspring. Ron in particular had been dying for another go with Draco.

I would never show it and never, ever mention it, but in that moment, I was a little pleased that someone was finally giving Molly heck for the way she'd treated me in fourth year when she believed Skeeter's lies. It had been upsetting that she'd so quickly believed that I was some kind of harlot.

Naturally, everyone was in an uproar because Malfoy had spoken against Molly.

"That is _enough_," Dumbledore said, gliding into the room behind Malfoy and I. He put a hand on Draco's shoulder. "Mr. Malfoy has shown remarkable courage in renouncing the dark. You should be welcoming him into our numbers, not questioning his motives."

No one looked shamed by their actions, but wands all over the room lowered, some were even shoved back into pockets. With much grumbling, the crowd slowly went back to their business under Dumbledore's watchful eye.

"Being stuck here with this lot might actually make me eager for the fighting to start," Malfoy muttered, low enough that only I could hear.


End file.
